Avatar: The Second Cause
by Gingeritis
Summary: Four years after the war, everybody is settling into their new lives of peace.  But when Katara and Mai become aware of an insidious plot, they risk their family, their friends, and their lives to unravel it.
1. Years of Change

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Chapter One: Years of Change**

The city of Ba Sing Se stood baking in the enduring summer heat wave. Over the course of the season, temperatures had steadily climbed into scalding levels; if a pedestrian were to take a moment from his usual routine to study the orderly flagstone streets of the first two rings, he would have noticed heat rising from them in waves. Most of the citizens took refuge in the shade of their homes, save for small crowds of resilient, thrill-seeking children. They also felt the press of the heat, as their street games were conducted with much less gusto than usual. As the sun continued to beat down oppressively, the people grew listless. Even bathing was rendered pointless - there was no reward in washing off a layer of sweat when it simply reappeared moments after leaving the bath. The air was not only hot, but incredibly heavy and moist.

Katara juggled her groceries in order to liberate her hand, which she then wiped across the back of her neck for what seemed to be the hundredth time. Her hand came back slick with sweat, prompting a weary scowl from the young woman. Katara fancied herself a resilient, adaptable person. After all, wasn't that the mark of any Waterbender? But as the heat wave drew on, she often caught herself longing for the artic, dry air of the Southern Water Tribe. Truthfully, she would be content with any climate, so long as it didn't threaten to paste her clothes to her body after moments of exposure. Weeks of heat and humidity made her long for extreme opposites.

Moments after wiping her neck, Katara found her forehead heavy with sweat. Glaring up at the offending drops, she lifted her moist hand again before growing quite still. Katara looked over her shoulder, eyeing the empty street warily lest others were out in the heat, or even peeking through their shady windows. With no sign of life within sight, she lifted her hand quickly, flexing her wrist and pulling all the sweat off in one fluid, simple technique. She discarded it on the side of the street casually before resuming her journey. The course of one mile seemed to grow tenfold in the heat.

Waterbending a majority of the sweat from her body had been a small risk, but Katara decided that the reward – walking dry, if only for a few moments – was well worth it. She was only positively recognized in the Upper Ring of Ba Sing Se, where the citizens considered themselves members of a refined, secret organization. Foreigners were generally well-treated in the Upper Ring, mostly because of the status that afforded them such accommodations. A small portion of hospitality came from the belief that high society citizens were above primitive harassment; Katara learned quickly that they didn't need actions to bully.

As she strode through the streets, the young woman's mind wandered back to the first months following Ozai's defeat. With the threat of the Fire Nation finally dismissed, Ba Sing Se had welcomed newcomers of every ethnicity, eager to rebuild in the name of peace. However, once the dreamy effects of post war bliss wore off, the people found themselves facing the crisis of leadership. With the Dai Li disbanded and the Earth King traveling in exile, the stability of the city was in grave danger. Aang, honoring his duty as Avatar, had searched for a solution that would best serve the people. With the help of the former king's most trusted generals and the Order of the White Lotus, a thirteen-year-old boy shouldered the grievances of the Earth Kingdom capital. Katara could clearly recall and maintain her rage – Avatar or not, how could any child be expected to accomplish such a feat? There was a small comfort in the wisdom of the White Lotus and the experience of the generals, but she still harbored a righteous, if not somewhat selfish anger. Burdens and expectations aside, Katara hadn't been prepared to share Aang with the world. Almost immediately after affirming their feelings for one another, Aang had been swept into post war politics.

Katara had wanted to help, and in a very small way, she'd managed. It became clear after the first meeting between ambassadors that she was only a child in the world of politics; besides being inexperienced, she'd been treated as a stupid, blundering little girl. Her frustration soon claimed her rational mind. Who cared if the Earth Kingdom was governed by a single system or multiple rulers as long as the people were represented? Why even mention rebuilding the Dai Li after they caused to much corruption and pain? It was very simple and right to ask these questions in her head, but when Katara voiced them in front of a panel of ambassadors, she felt utterly foolish. As time drew on, she realized that without the proper age or status, she would never be recognized. Katara could only offer Aang comforting words and youthful love, but even those seemed inadequate as the weight of the real world pressed down on the young Avatar.

As she boarded the monorail from the second ring, Katara felt a stab of pain as her left knee stretched a fraction too wide. Biting back a hiss, she used her free arm to pull herself into the car. She located an empty seat and eased into it, sighing languidly as shade covered her. The monorail creaked into motion and began its journey to the Upper Ring. She glanced out the window, watching as the roofs changed from green to gold. As a war hero in her own right, Katara qualified for a small house on the outskirts of the Upper Ring. It was Aang's status that afforded them the beautiful, completely furnished building near the palace. The vast difference grated on her, but she didn't reject the key Aang offered. In fact, she'd been giddy with the prospect of freely entering and leaving Aang's house whenever it suited her. Of course, he'd gone on to mention that Sokka, Zuko and Toph also had keys, oblivious to her darkening mood. She couldn't very well kick the three out whenever she wanted; as an independent, Aang owned the house.

Katara's grip on the grocery bag tightened. Four years after the war, she and Aang were still independent and inexperienced. Girls were typically married by nineteen, often with children. Katara was beginning to feel old, as if she'd ignored a crucial choice in life and would forever be unmarried for it. This was a feeling that came to her in times of loneliness, when Aang was serving needy people half-way across the world. She knew it was foolish – Aang had never once given her the impression of falling out of love, busy as he was – but she couldn't deny the fearful notion. In the years following the war, Sokka and Toph had jokingly asked about weddings and children, realizing too late how much of a sting the questions dealt. They eventually subsided into respectful silence.

Busy as she was dwelling on her thoughts, Katara didn't notice as the monorail grew slow. As the car drew to a complete stop, she was jerked back to reality, standing a little too quickly and staggering into the street. As she made her way toward Aang's mansion, she warily noted the looks people shot in her direction. While Katara was discreet about her bending, there was no masking the distinct Water Tribe characteristics of her skin, eyes, and facial features. While Ba Sing Se had once welcomed foreigners, the dispute over a new ruler had introduced tension between the city's native residents and its newcomers. Rumors of a power struggle were widespread, and with a growing number of foreigners moving into the city, the prospect of an uprising was all too interesting for gossips to ignore. The current steward of Ba Sing Se forbade racial harassment, but without the strict measures of the Dai Li, people found they could be provoked. People of obvious foreign descent were grudgingly accepted, but any bending aside from Earthbending (and Aang's bending) was openly ridiculed.

Katara could remember coming to the aid of a small family of Firebenders who'd been foolish enough to lose control of their children in the second ring. Said children shot playful sparks from their hands, oblivious to the crowd pressing in; Katara, passing through on an errand similar to her current one, had noticed the growing predicament and intervened before any of the children were hurt. Her own bending had earned a rock to the skull, and while she'd been determined to confront the second ring the next day, Sokka convinced her otherwise.

_"They aren't evil people,"_ he muttered, although his expression spoke otherwise. _"They're just scared. This city has been ruled by corruption for so long, they don't know what to do with their freedom. Besides,"_ he said, dabbing gingerly on the cut marking her head, _"Aang's gonna be angry enough with me as it is. If you got hurt again, he'd probably do some freaky bending to keep me from having children or something."_

_"Lovely,"_ she'd quipped. _"Nieces and nephews. I didn't need that mental image. And for the record, I can take care of myself perfectly well."_

_"Just doing my brotherly duty."_

_"I'm not a child."_ Being pouty and defiant hadn't helped the statement, but it felt good to say so. The incident had occurred just over three years ago, and with her sixteenth birthday fast approaching, Katara was determined to be every inch an adult. Fear of foreign uprising was progressing at an alarming rate. At the time, Sokka and Suki's temporary residence in the city was fast becoming uncomfortable. Sokka didn't have bending to incriminate or protect him and Suki couldn't deny dearly missing home. Without much effort or grief, they gathered their few belongings and moved to Kyoshi Island. Sokka would borrow a room in Aang's house for the rare visit, having sold his own small home before leaving the city. Katara gathered from his early messages that her brother was adjusting well, training rigorously with the Kyoshi Warriors and deepening his relationship with Suki. Little than a year after their departure, Aang and Katara were invited to their wedding.

Imagining Sokka as a husband had been strange enough, but seeing it become a reality had been utterly surreal. That aside, Katara was overjoyed to see her brother happily married. The idea of marrying Aang had been a harmless, niggling notion at the time. Her happiness increased at the prospect of having time alone with him – unburdened by the world's troubles – during their visit to the island. Aang and Katara had spent their days on Kyoshi Island as carelessly as possible, avoiding housing in favor of spending time out in the open. Katara fondly remembered lying beside him on the beach, their fingers intertwined as they gazed up at the stars. They spoke of love with childish honesty, of friends, of plans for the future. In retrospect, it had been almost silly, but Katara wouldn't trade it for separate rooms in separate houses (or the possible trauma of hearing post-wedding Sokka). She and Aang had been utterly content. But once the wedding celebrations were over, the world came to Aang, weeping and wailing and impossible to ignore. With all the optimism of young love, Katara went wherever Aang did.

The mansion was impossible to miss, for which Katara was glad. Fishing the key from her grocery bag, Katara maneuvered her way to the door, only to find it unlocked. Feeling giddy hope bloom in her chest, she rushed as much as she was able through the lobby and into the living room. Her steps faltered and she gripped the end of an ornate couch for support, leaning over only to behold her brother, snoozing away without a care in the world. Katara's hope wilted and her brows knit together. Glad to be indoors, she drew a stream of water from the canteen at her side, seriously contemplating spraying him in the face. Sokka woke just in time to observe his sister moving a wrathful water serpent into place above his head; he started into complete consciousness with a splutter, waving his arms frantically.

"I'm up, I'm up, I'm up," he chanted.

"Why are you here?" Katara demanded, none too pleased at having her prank foiled. She bended the water back into the canteen and capped it.

"Can't a guy visit his little sister and friend when he wants?" Sokka grumped, averting his gaze.

Hands on her hips, Katara regarded her brother; at twenty, Sokka sported his father's lithe, muscular frame and his chin was no longer bare. He'd maintained his trademark ponytail, and his face was unmistakable. While he'd clearly changed since the end of the war, he wore the same expressions he always had. Katara glanced around the room, noting the distinct absence of company.

"Why would you visit?" she queried, mollified. She wouldn't chase out company, even if it was her brother. She looked about a second time, straining her ears for Suki's voice, a telltale screech. "Where are Suki and Kuro?"

"They're at home," Sokka replied, looking somewhat relieved. His adored his wife and son, but at a mere two years of age, Kuro had all the energy and destructive capability of a Komodo Rhino. The boy was a prankster by nature, and if Katara's predictions held any truth, he would develop exemplary leadership that would give his peers cause to follow him into trouble. "As for the visit, I just came by to check on you."

"You came all the way to Ba Sing Se just to check on me?" she parroted, her face softening. Nudging her brother into a sitting position, she sat and embraced him. "It's good to see you," she confessed. "This house is so big and empty sometimes."

"Aang's still traveling?" Sokka deduced, frowning. He didn't like Katara being alone, even if it was her decision and done with good reason. His gaze ghosted over her sadly before he rolled his eyes. "That guy needs to take a break. He's gone for a hundred years and the moment he's back, everybody jumps on him." Katara managed a small smile at his joke, but the reminder of Aang's absence left her despondent.

"I know the world needs him," she said, "but… Sokka, I'm no good when it comes to sharing. I thought I could deal with waiting, but sometimes I just…" She trailed off, weary and frustrated. She blinked back a suspicious pain in her eyes and her throat was suddenly very tight. "I want to leave this city. The people in the lower and second ring are so hostile, even though many of them know I'm the Avatar's…" What? They loved each other, certainly, but the word "lover" seemed to imply more than they were. "…friend. The Upper Ring is dangerous, too. Even after the war, this city is full of corruption. Everyone's afraid of change and it makes them hateful."

"It's not as if Aang would want to live here forever, either," Sokka pointed out kindly. Aside from Iroh's tea shop, there was little in Ba Sing Se to welcome any of the Gaang. A vague expression stole through his eyes, as if a thought was settling itself concretely into his mind. "I'm sure if you wait until he gets back and explain how you feel, he'll understand."

"It sounds so selfish," Katara muttered. "I shouldn't just whine to him every time I have a problem. I can whine to you because you're my brother." She smiled at that and Sokka groaned despairingly. Elated, she changed the subject. "How are Suki and Kuro?"

"Fine," he said. "Now that he can walk, Kuro can't sit still. Without a constant babysitter, he'd be half-way to the South Pole by now. And Suki," his expression grew blissfully slack, "is perfect. When I told her I had to come here, she completely understood."

"I still don't," Katara replied, frowning. "Sokka, nobody travels half-way across the Earth Kingdom for just a visit. It's not like you've got Appa to carry you."

"I know that," Sokka muttered bitterly. Once Aang's company became a rarity, the convenience of air travel was rendered invaluable and appreciated. Katara had yet to be completely alienated from the Avatar and his bison, so she couldn't imagine years without either. "Geez, Katara, can't you accept my excuse? Since when were you so suspicious?" Immediately regretting his last words, he looked at his feet. Katara graciously ignored him. After a moment of silence, the young man began to fidget beneath his sister's stare. Finally, he surrendered with a grunt. "A few weeks ago, I received news from Zuko. Intelligence from within Ba Sing Se has reported that Steward Hei is organizing some kind of gathering. After hearing the report, Zuko was officially invited. The invitation implied that other representatives from the four nations would be there, too. The meeting is taking place at the palace here, but," he trailed off in thought. "Zuko's letter said that Steward Hei would also greet close friends and family. He's pretty famous for his evil dad, crazy sister, and missing mom, so I don't think that was the steward's goal."

"Maybe he meant Mai?" Katara offered.

"Her father is a nobleman," Sokka replied. "She's well-versed in politics, interested or not. She travels with Zuko most of the time." Katara nodded, crushing the flicker of envy within her. It seemed that political fluency was not only a matter of experience, but of upbringing. She had neither. With Mai's background or even basic understanding, she would be able to travel with Aang. Sokka ploughed on, oblivious to – or perhaps keenly aware of – Katara's thoughts. "We don't know what the steward wants, and that's why I'm here. Officially, I'm visiting my sister; if Zuko manages to get me into the meeting, I'll act as a stand-in representative for Kyoshi Island."

"When does it take place?" Katara queried. If the meeting were of any importance to the world – a theory further strengthened by Zuko's presence – Aang would no doubt be invited. The prospect of seeing him after his most recent political struggle elated her, to say the least. Aang would be returning initially for the sake of the meeting, but Katara was confident that she could pull him away from the world's grievances for a few days.

"Three days from now," Sokka said with a yawn. He scratched his head and Katara was fairly sure she saw grains of sand bounce from his scalp. Evidently the journey had taken a route through the desert. She would order him to bathe later. "I'm kind of surprised Aang isn't here, actually. If important people from all over the world are coming, this is a big deal. Zuko said it's supposed to be kept secret, 'family and friends' aside." Sokka's tone suggested skepticism towards the matter and its contradictions.

"If it's important, Aang will be here," Katara said firmly. If nothing else, he was unfailingly loyal to the people. Curiosity piqued by the mystery, she said, "I'm family to you and friend to Aang. If either of you are invited, I should go."

"Are you sure?" But after a moment of consideration, Sokka nodded. "I don't like being kept in the dark. If something important is happening, especially in this city, we should know. Aang, the generals, and the Order chose the steward, but I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"Right," Katara agreed. Ba Sing Se had displayed far too much of its government's shortcomings before the war's end; a newly established system could hardly sway their suspicions. Katara stood and took up the neglected groceries, moving toward the kitchen. The heat wave prevented vendors from selling food that would best be preserved cold, so Katara and Sokka's conversation hadn't damaged the vittles' quality. "Come help me put these away. We'll get you set up in a spare room and you can take a bath."

Sokka nearly jumped to his feet to follow; his trek through the Earth Kingdom, deprived of air travel, had taught him the values of simple comforts. They emptied the grocery bags and set the food on the table for sorting. Sokka scanned the purchases, eyebrows knitting together. He stared resentfully at the table before facing his sister to gripe.

"You didn't get any meat?"

x

Toph Bei Fong stamped through the halls of her home in Omashu, delighting in the clarity offered by the vibrations as they bounced from the floor to the walls, darting up to the ceiling before returning.

Altogether, she was terribly pleased with her accommodations. She had initially rejected the idea of living in any city, preferring the notion of privacy in the country. Ba Sing Se had left her sick of civilization and yearning for freedom; she couldn't fathom why the citizens were so content with their previous conditions. Once the Dai Li had been disbanded and a new order put into place – one that ensured freedom of opinion and consciousness – the people had flown into a nervous frenzy. Toph, thoroughly frustrated with all the confusion and fear, packed her few belongings and left. Were it not for Aang and the others, she would have never set foot in that wretched city.

Before she left, Aang mentioned his friend Bumi. One would think, from the Avatar's praise, that he was speaking of an Earthbending spirit itself. This brought to mind the crazy, cackling old man she had met when traveling with the White Lotus, before leaving with Sokka and Suki. She hadn't known him well, but any man who could chase an entire Fire Nation army from his city – with Earthbending, no less – had her approval. Upon grudgingly setting foot in Omashu, Toph felt a strong sense of homecoming – she could hardly be expected to recognize it, having never truly felt welcomed home. She ignored the guards' protests and approached Bumi (or what she took to be him, given memory's physical description) on an Earthbending construction sight. The vibrations of buildings lurching fully-formed from the ground impressed her, and once Toph pinpointed the singular source, her awe returned full force. Then the old, muscular king described by her feet let out a maniacal cackle and Toph was sold. She didn't know quite what to think, but she knew she liked Bumi. There was little to dislike. He was easily one of the greatest Earthbenders in the world – second, perhaps, to herself.

As time passed and Toph assisted with the restoration of Omashu, she found there were a great many Earthbending tricks she could learn from the one-hundred plus king. She was interested in the manipulation of the mail slides which twisted through the city like veins. She wanted to focus on the details of structures they would bend from the ground and she was especially interested in the ability to bend without limbs. Bumi, recognizing Toph's potential and insisting that any friend of Aang's was a friend of his, offered to teach her what he knew. Before she could think twice, Toph used her small fortune from selling her house in Ba Sing Se to purchase a small, inexpensive home on the outskirts of Omashu. There had been much to learn, and with the passage of four years, her progress was impressive.

The insistent chime of a bell struck Toph's ears and she made her way toward the door, stamping as she opened it. She'd long memorized the steps and characteristics of the mail carrier, so there was little need for her to be overly cautious. Likewise, the mail carrier – a clever, albeit somewhat nosy boy – knew of Toph's blindness, and offered to read personal letters to her whenever she desired. While Toph was not wary of the boy's immediate threat, she was very conscious of her privacy, and so declined every time. Her long-suffering maid would read to her.

"Thanks," she said, plucking the mail from his hand. A single letter was her prize for the day, although from the feel of the heavy wax seal on the envelope, it was important. For a brief moment, she contemplated the possibility of receiving a letter from her parents.

Biting back her hopeful smile, she strode through the halls into the kitchen, where her feet could see her maid, Karin, busying herself with cooking. Toph was by no means an invalid – she was confident of being more capable than most – but she was a lousy cook. She also wasn't the neatest girl in the Earth Kingdom—Spirits, she hated housework. Karin was brilliant in all these regards, and Toph was by no means frugal about her wages. If she had any complaints, it was that her maid was something of a wallflower, discreet in every regard. In the Gaang, Toph had companions who were not only talented as benders and strategists – they could properly argue with her. While she had always welcomed confrontation, she hadn't realized its true importance until it was gone. Karin never argued or spoke out of turn, even when Toph went out of her way to be confrontational. She longed for Katara's exasperation and Sokka's barbed replies. She even missed Aang's initial acceptance, which always gave way to explosive rage.

Toph pinched her nose with her free hand. If this pathetic moping drew on any longer, she would have to make time to visit her friends, Ba Sing Se or not. The greatest obstacle to the idea was separation; unless something important occurred, chances of reuniting everyone were slim. Only Katara had idle time, and if Toph knew her friend, it was spent in quiet fury. She couldn't imagine Katara happily sitting on her hands while Aang fixed the world's problems.

"Karin," Toph called as she strode into the kitchen. The scent of jasmine tea caught her attention, as did the rice and vegetables her maid was preparing.

"Yes, Miss?"

"I need you to read this to me," Toph said, waving the letter about, running the pad of her thumb along the intricate seal as she did. The prospect of receiving news from her estranged parents was too exhilarating to bear, although she would never confess it aloud. Karin took the letter from her, making a small sound of surprise when she noted the seal. Toph ignored the urge to fidget as she waited, noting the sound of paper unfolding and Karin clearing her throat.

"To the esteemed Toph Bei Fong," she read. "Due to recent observations regarding Avatar Aang's services to the four nations, it is the opinion of Steward Ji Hei, humble ruler of Ba Sing Se, that immediate action is taken. In light of the unfortunate events surrounding Katara of the Southern Water Tribe three years ago, it is the wish of Steward Hei that representatives from each nation assemble to discuss measures that would prevent such an incident from repeating itself.

"As a close friend and mentor of Avatar Aang, it would be a privilege to welcome you to the meeting. Furthermore, family and friends of the Bei Fongs would be welcomed as well. The gathering shall take place in the Earth King's palace in Ba Sing Se on the fifteenth day of the seventh month and it scheduled to last three days (this length is an estimate, not a solid fact). Accommodations in the Earth King's palace will be provided for you, but you may make your own arrangements if you so desire. Your presence would be greatly appreciated. Sincerely, Steward Hei."

"Spirits," Toph grunted, fairly disappointed. The probability of hearing from her parents went from frail to nonexistent in the space of four years, it seemed. She reflected bitterly that her own pride kept her from contacting them; it was the same pride that stayed their compassion. Nonetheless, the opportunity to reunite with her friends had become a solid invitation. She mulled over the contents of the summons, a bitter frown creasing her features.

"Miss? Your knuckles are white," Karin murmured. Toph unclenched her fists with an audible creak. The aforementioned incident had occurred three years ago, but it was still fresh in the minds of Katara's close friends. No doubt Aang could recall it vividly and felt their mutual guilt tenfold. The steward's plans were three years late, but Toph suspected he had made other matters a priority. She welcomed any means of ensuring her friend's safety, late or no.

"Three days to get to Ba Sing Se," she muttered. "I never thought I'd be in a hurry to get back to that awful city." Groaning, she ambled into the hall. "I'm going to pack my things, Karin. I'll be leaving Omashu by mid-day."

"I'll pack food," Karin replied, already busying herself with preserving her latest culinary endeavor. She set aside a portion for herself before loading a generous portion onto Toph's plate. She pressed the food into Toph's hands before wrapping the remaining food with precise efficiency. "Then I'll ready your belongings. Miss," she frowned, skepticism marring her usually passive features, "how are you going to reach Ba Sing Se in three days?"

"Oh, I have my ways," Toph replied with a mischievous grin. "I'll just need to get clearance from King Bumi before I can use them."

After all, with Earthbending she could speed along at ground level almost as quickly as Appa; if she stayed away from the main roads, she was certain to make good time without causing too much damage. Before she grew too excited, however, logic threw an obstacle in her path. While she had no problems in terms of speed, she would lose herself in the Earth Kingdom wilderness without a map. Toph could make out her natural surroundings easily, but she couldn't use her feet to decipher a picture on a flat sheet of paper. She groaned and pinched her nose again.

"Karin, when you're done with my food, would you start packing my things? I need to talk to King Bumi." She started toward the door without waiting for an answer. Her hand halted inches from the doorknob as her feet picked up vibrations from outside, both of which were unfamiliar. Judging from the way they shifted and muttered, Toph assumed they were either threatening or confused. She leaned into the door, listening intently as her feet provided details. One of her visitors was mid-height and lithe while the other was a great, hulking figure. She grew very tense for a moment, waiting for them to move about more and give her a better look. Under Bumi's tutelage, Toph was beginning to see not only the structural frame of a person, but the details that characterized one.

"You're sure this is the right address?" the smaller one queried. "This doesn't seem right. Someone of her… stature should be living in a mansion or something."

"He said it was," the other replied in a deep, throaty voice. There was a crinkling sound as he unfolded a piece of paper. "One-one-five Qing Street. This is it."

"Gah." Toph's brow furrowed as she tried to decipher whether they were friend or foe. The banter seemed harmless enough, but the size of the one unnerved her. The deep voice was vaguely familiar, niggling in the back of her mind. Toph's curiosity won over – along with the fact that any potential enemies wouldn't stand a chance against her – and she pulled the door open. As her visitors fell silent, she regarded them with what she hoped was disdain.

"Can I help you?" Spirits, she sounded like her snobby mother. She mentally swore to curb her tone as she waited for a reply.

"It _is _her," the wiry one replied, mildly surprised. An affirmative grunt came from the bulky one.

"Told you."

"If you two came for a visit, you'll be disappointed," she said without humor. "I'm getting ready to leave soon. If you wanted to gawk at a war hero, a blind girl, or both, you'll be even more disappointed. I'm not an animal at the zoo." As long as she had two perfect feet and Earthbending, she would not tolerate being on display.

"Huh. She doesn't recognize us. We didn't come to stare, Toph," the smaller one replied. From the vibrations he was giving off, she could see him waving his hands in a placating manner.

"That's Miss Bei Fong to you," she snapped. She didn't like being referred to as if she weren't present. "And what do you mean, don't recognize you? I memorize every voice and footstep I meet." She never bothered to memorize the fodder she knocked down in a fight, so she wondered if they were from the Earth King's guards. They didn't seem frightened enough.

"Toph, it's me," the wiry young man said. "The Duke. And that's Pipsqueak."

Toph couldn't help it; she didn't try. She laughed. Forgoing any sense of nobility and manners, she laughed so hard she grabbed her gut. To their credit, her two visitors waited patiently for her fit to end.

"That's impossible," she wheezed. The Pipsqueak had a very similar body and voice, now that she considered it, but The Duke didn't match with his imposter at all. "The Duke is a runty little boy with a high voice. If you're going to lie, at least make it remotely believable."

"Uh," the imposter grunted, "I _am _The Duke. It's been four years, Toph. I hit this thing called puberty." The large one began to laugh and his companion whirled around to glare at him, incensed. "You shut up! I'm sixteen!"

"Prove it," Toph smirked. While she hardly believed the pair's story, she couldn't deny the charm in listening to their banter; better yet, strangely, she wanted to be a part of it. "The Duke let me puke in his knapsack. What color was it?"

There was a pause, and just as Toph was congratulating herself for exposing him, he spoke.

"It wasn't a knapsack," he replied. She could hear a frown in his tone. "It was my helmet. And it was dark gray and green." Toph went very still. She noticed a crucial detail she had neglected since the beginning of the exchange: his pulse remained consistent. His body displayed no traitorous signs of dishonesty. For such a case, three possibilities came to mind. Perhaps he completely believed himself to be The Duke when he wasn't. Maybe he was a gifted liar, like Azula.

Or maybe he really was The Duke, as evidenced by his companionship with Pipsqueak.

Of the three, the last seemed to be the most likely. Toph, feeling foolish, scuffed her heels in the dust. Finally, seeing through her lie and providing evidence of his presence on the submarine four years ago cemented his innocence. A chuckle escaped him and she bit back a grumble. She was the one at fault.

"Um. Hey," she offered with a limp wave. "It's nice to see you guys, but like I said earlier, I'll be leaving soon. I have to be in Ba Sing Se by the fifteenth. Come back later." She made to walk by and escape their presence, but The Duke took her shoulder in hand. She could hear a smile in his voice.

"You're going to turn us away after we came all this way to see you?"

"I don't see why you would in the first place," she said, resisting the urge to snap again. "No offense, but it's not like we were best friends or anything."

"Ouch," he said. "I guess there's nothing wrong with being honest. No, we came with an actual reason. You see," he paused a moment and Toph felt his body shift, heard cloth move, "I've been studying, Toph. Or is it Miss Bei Fong?" In four years, he'd developed a cruel sense of humor.

"Toph is fine," she grumbled.

"Perfect. Anyway, Toph, I apprenticed for a bookbinder after the war. He taught me how to read and write."

"That's fascinating."

"Don't be so dry," he laughed. "He noticed potential, although I'll never figure out where he saw it. He sent me with a letter of recommendation to a school in Ba Sing Se. I have two years to go. Long story short, I'm shadowing at the Science Institute in Ba Sing Se. Here are my research notes," she heard him tap his fingers against the hard cover of a book, "on bending."

"So this is some kind of survey?" she sneered, hands on her hips. "Fine. You can dedicate your notes to Toph Bei Fong, the greatest Earthbender who ever lived. Have a nice day." Intending to visit Bumi later, she made to close the door. Her feet picked up a quick motion and suddenly the door was stopped; jammed, no doubt, by The Duke's foot.

"You're mistaken," he said. "If everything goes well, my research notes will disprove the theories of the Earth Kingdom's greatest scientists. To do that, I need to observe benders. I need to follow them around constantly, and that, Toph," she was fairly sure he wore a wicked grin, "is where you come in."

"I'm busy," she replied stiffly. "I have a meeting to attend. I'm taking Earthbending lessons from King Bumi. One of my best friends is the Avatar. I can't exactly afford to take a year or two off to help you doodle in your textbooks." Feeling mean-spirited, she sighed. "There are plenty of Earthbenders you can study. I'll refer you to some, if you'd like."

"I'm asking you for a reason," The Duke replied, nudging the door open with his foot. "Who better to study from than the greatest Earthbender in the world? You said so yourself, that's what you are. Furthermore, my research depends on one person at a time, not masses. Not yet, anyway. Are either of your parents Earthbenders?"

"No," she managed grudgingly. She didn't like her own words being parroted back at her and she didn't like how much sense he was making, despite revealing very little of his actual studies.

"That's great," he said. "You're a prime candidate for my studies, Toph. Thank you. As for your life, feel free to continue living it as you wish – I encourage it, actually. Depending on your preference, I can be a good friend or a good shadow. Before long, you won't know how you got along without me."

"That's—I—," Toph sputtered, growing increasingly annoyed. Behind The Duke, Pipsqueak was failing at concealing his laughter. "I'm going to talk to King Bumi!" She stormed by them.

"To tell him you're leaving? We're packed and ready to go," The Duke supplied.

"Yes, but I'd also like to talk to him about getting a restraining order," she grumbled. She couldn't manage enough malice in her tone. The unmistakable footsteps of The Duke and Pipsqueak followed closely behind her. As the three made their way to the palace, Toph couldn't shake the notion that King Bumi would find no fault with the two boys accompanying her. After all, she needed somebody to read the map to Ba Sing Se. As logic settled upon her, Toph sighed despairingly.

"They're like elbow leeches," she grumped. The Duke and Pipsqueak merely laughed.

_To be continued…_

_Author's Note: This is my first Avatar: The Last Airbender fanfiction, and as such, I hope you will be gentle. I know my writing style tends to get over-descriptive and sometimes downright boring, but I'm working on remedying it (or at least making it interesting until I grow out of it). _

_Also, I know I'm taking some creative liberties with the characters; I have to, because they've obviously changed a bit in four years. Most notably, I've aged The Duke by four years. According to every website I've checked, he's eight at the beginning of the series. However, I watched the episode where he was introduced and failed to find an age; doubtless I'm missing something, but I hope you guys can deal with him being older. :D_

_This story is written with the assumption that every character (except Toph) was one year older than their original age by the end of the series. Therefore, Katara would be nineteen, Sokka twenty, Aang seventeen, Zuko twenty-one, and so on. Toph stays as she is because she was introduced mid-way through the series. _

_Any original characters I add are purely for the sake of moving the story along or convenience (like Steward Ji Hei, Karin, and whoever appears later). I promise none of these characters will have a major protagonist part in the story. There will be no trauma, no OC pairings, and no OC heroes. _

_If you have any constructive criticism, mistakes to point out and whatnot, please don't hesitate to say so in your review. I know this first part has been long, but bear with me and rest assured that there will be an actual plot._

_Thanks!_


	2. Uncertainty

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Chapter Two: Uncertainty**

Mai pressed the heel of her hand to her lower back with a grimace. After weeks of hasty travel atop the backs of eel hounds, preceded by days of pacing the close parameters of a ship, she felt she had a right to a small show of discomfort. Mai had never been one to enjoy camping, not when the value of family time was wasted by self-serving parents and the discomforts of nature became unbearable. But she never made grand displays of aggravation. Traveling with Zuko was a privilege, well hidden or not. He always made a big fuss about asking her to join him, often skirting around the subject awkwardly. Sometimes his questions lasted for days and Mai was often pressed to answer before they were voiced.

"Yes, I'm coming. You can't just expect me to lie around while you try to fix the world, you know," was how her chiding often went. It was in those moments that she was thankful for her upbringing, for her politically-directed parents and their insistence on her knowledge of the subject. While the thought of thanking them face-to-face unnerved her, she couldn't deny the frail draw of family.

During the four years after the war, Mai's parents had come to call on her frequently. She suspected that they delighted in the hospitality of the new Fire Lord; visiting her was very likely secondary. Mai had grown accustomed to this preference and while it initially grated on her, the anger eventually subsided into calm understanding. Between her parents and Zuko, her preference was too easy to decide. There was some comfort in Tom-Tom's visits. At six years old, the boy hardly had any notion of ulterior motives. He was simply excited to see his older sister and "brother Zuko". Continued interaction with her little brother brought an unexpected joy to Mai's life, the sort that could not be replicated with any other good fortune. With Tom-Tom's adoration came the possibility that children weren't so awful after all. The idea of having her own children was still distant and strange. The possibility sat in the back of her rational mind, along with developing a sudden talent for Firebending. It was improbable, almost impossible.

When Zuko received the invitation, Mai had feared the possibility of bringing her parents. The greeting to family and friends was suspicious, to say the least, and the fact that Zuko's family life wasn't exactly rosy made it more so. Mai smiled as she recalled Zuko's face when he had asked her if she wanted to invite her parents. His expression had been torn between amusement and apprehension and when he ground out "family and friends," she had to stifle a laugh. Thus, the matter was closed.

The city of Ba Sing Se loomed in the distance and while this was some small comfort, Mai knew there was still about a day's journey to complete. Another backache assailed her and she hissed, teeth clenched, taking a hand off the reigns to rub the sore area. Zuko noticed.

"Are you all right?" he queried. His concern was sweet, Mai noted. He treated her as if she was fragile, a porcelain doll that would break with the faintest prod. While the notion was kind, it was also misplaced. Surely Zuko knew that, but Mai would be sure to remove any lingering ideas.

"I'm fine," she said through grit teeth. "Just a little sore, that's all."

"We could stop for a while," he offered. "You could stretch your legs."

"I told you, I'm fine," she repeated, annoyed. She wasn't pathetic, despite the aches that had wracked her body for a majority of the journey. A small stop wouldn't make them late for the meeting, but it would damage her pride. Then again, Mai was beginning to think pride was terribly overrated.

"Whatever you say," Zuko said with a chuckle. Then, to the five guards accompanying them, "We're stopping for a bit. I'm going to stretch my legs." Mai shot a halfhearted glare at her husband, who smiled cheekily. With a sigh of relief and annoyance, she pulled on the reins of the eel hound. Once dismounted, Mai couldn't deny the relief that spread through her legs and up her back. While a residual soreness lingered in the base of her back, it was considerably less intense.

"Walk with me?" Zuko asked, extending a hand. Mai took it, lacing her fingers into his own, and they set out together. The guards made to follow, but Zuko allowed them their rest; between Mai and himself, he was sure they would be aptly protected. They often joked that the guards were only for show and often found themselves in more trouble than the nobility.

"This heat is unbelievable," he murmured as they strolled about the cliff side, pausing to take in the view of the wall. Even from such a distance, Mai was certain she could see heat rolling up from the ground in shimmering waves. Despite having made the comment, Zuko looked to be in the pink of health. The Firebender in him enjoyed the heat. Mai smirked derisively, feeling a slight pang of envy. Throughout the journey, Zuko's energy had climbed to astonishing levels while hers waned. True, she could think of mischievous ways to exploit extra energy, but at present all she longed for was a soft bed in the shade. Mai refused to complain – they had enough to worry about without adding minor discomfort – but she could dream.

Despite his sudden energy, Mai knew Zuko was concerned. The nature of the meeting was simply too suspicious to ignore. She squeezed his hand and offered the smallest of smiles when he regarded her curiously. Seeing her attempt to comfort him, Zuko pulled her close, pushing her thick bangs back and kissing her forehead. The gesture was sweet, almost childish, but Mai allowed it. When his lips found the corner of her mouth, she allowed it. She turned so their mouths met and kissed him languidly. Mai wrapped her arms around his neck and breathed a sigh into his mouth. Sore or not, she couldn't deny wanting him. Camping put a damper on alone time and the guards were annoyingly attentive. There had been a number of times when she wanted to pin each to his own tree and take Zuko for a long, long walk.

Mai pulled away and fixed her gaze on the city, eyebrows knitting together. She never liked Ba Sing Se and knew Zuko shared her opinion. Aside from necessary meetings, the only draw in the city was Iroh's tea shop. Zuko had asked his uncle about moving the shop to the Fire Nation, but the old man laughed off the notion, stating that the people of the Earth Kingdom were growing on him. Frankly, Mai couldn't find anything admirable about the people of the city. First, she'd merely been wary, but after the incident involving Katara, her caution transformed into outright dislike. But Iroh was a special case. Mai expected that the old man could see goodness in almost anybody; Zuko would firmly testify to this suspicion.

"I don't like this," she muttered. "It's too suspicious. Why would the steward go to such lengths to make a meeting secret then invite family and friends? It's strange."

"I'm confused, too," Zuko replied. His serious tone betrayed the thought he'd given to the matter. "It's not as if he would invite them only to be polite. What could he gain from meeting our families?"

"Status?" Mai offered. "Aside from making worthwhile connections in the world of nobility, I have no idea. That in itself isn't a bad move to make, but then he went and mentioned Katara and what happened three years ago."

"The invitation also said something about helping Aang," Zuko said. The reminder of three years ago left him shaken and angry, but he continued. "It doesn't make sense." They spent a moment in silence, each considering the many possibilities. A thought struck Mai.

"Maybe he's trying to connect the Avatar with some of the world's wealthiest and most influential people," she suggested. Zuko's eyes narrowed in thought and she continued. "Think about it. It would put Steward Hei in good graces with the world… well, officially, anyway. And it would make Aang's political goals easier to achieve."

"It's a good idea," Zuko said, uncertain. "If we're lucky, that will be it. If not…"

"We'll burn that bridge when we get there," Mai insisted firmly. She found a dry, gnarly tree and sat beneath it, basking in the bar of shade. "We're pretty good at improvising." Zuko sat next to her, leaning heavily on her shoulder. He pushed aside a lock of black hair and kissed the nape of her neck. Mai was both parts fascinated and disgusted. She'd been sweating all day.

"Aren't you eager," she marveled. She shook him off and stood. "Come on, Fire Lord. We'd better get back before our babysitters get nervous."

"Mai," he groaned plaintively. "You're awful."

"And this is a public road. Come along, Dear Husband." The last two words were punctuated with a smirk. "We can spend time together in Ba Sing Se." Zuko sighed, hauling himself to his feet. Belatedly, he noted how odd it would be to come across the Fire Lord on the side of a dusty road in the Earth Kingdom. Mai was already a fair bit down the road when he was on his feet. "Come on!"

"Alright, already," he grunted. "You're sure bossy today."

"I'm tired and sore," she muttered. Instantly she looked regretful. "Not really. Just a bit. You were the one who wanted to stop." It was too late; Zuko was already looking her over for any small sign of injury. Seemingly satisfied, he assisted her as she mounted the eel hound with a grimace. The familiar ache of travel immediately found her back and legs. "Thanks," she murmured, somewhat ashamed to seem so needy.

"No problem. Is everyone ready?" In the space of a moment, Zuko's voice went from gentle to firm and commanding. The five guards, having noticed their approach and planned accordingly, spoke their confirmation in unison. Zuko glanced over at Mai, who nodded, and the group prompted their eel hounds into motion. If all went according to plan, they would reach Ba Sing Se by dusk, spend a day resting then attend the meeting. In retrospect, Mai knew her assumptions about the gathering seemed hopeful, even a bit naïve. As the eel hounds sprinted across the dusty, barren earth, an idea wriggled into the back of her mind. It was such a vague thought that it was unclear even to her, but as the beast's feet pounded the earth rhythmically, it became an uncertain, ugly possibility.

x

Katara was roused from her slumber when Sokka opened the door, proudly announcing that he'd succeeded in securing meat for the day. He slammed the door behind him with his foot, ambling to the side of the couch and nudging Katara into complete consciousness. A strong, nauseating odor followed the noise – the meat, no doubt, hardly sanitary after hours of sitting out in the sun at the market. Groaning, she sat up, combing her fingers through her thick hair absentmindedly. Her mind only processed bits and pieces of Sokka's words, but it soon became clear that he wanted her to prepare the meat.

"Sokka," she mumbled, wiping residual sweat from her forehead and glancing at the clock, "it's three in the afternoon. Not even close to dinner time." Her brows furrowed as the smell assailed her. "How could you even buy that garbage? There's a reason people aren't selling meat now, Sokka!"

"Once you cook it, it should be fine," he replied dismissively. His marriage had in no way altered his ability – or inability – to cook. He was still heavily reliant on others for the convenience and Katara was his current victim. "Can't you just make dinner early? I'm starving."

"That stuff," she grunted irately, "stinks. It's stinking up the house. Get. It. Out!"

"If you don't cook, I'll starve," Sokka whined. Muttering hopeful possibilities under her breath, Katara stood and took the bag. She noted the juice soaking the bottom with utter distaste, but rather than bend it into a weapon against her brother, she pulled it back into the fibers of the flesh. She slouched her way into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter and grasping at the log pile in the corner. She filled up the oven and set a spark to the dry timbers before grabbing a fan from its place by the wall. She kept a vigilant eye on the growing flames, adding a puff of air when necessary. Sokka tiptoed into the kitchen behind her.

"You're the best sister a guy could ask for," he cried, simpering as he made to hug her. Katara tolerated his affections with a weary grunt; if she was going to heed his needy requests, she deserved some hero-worship. She poured the meat from the bag into a pan and groped about for a mitt. Her free hand found a bottle of seasoning and she sprinkled the meat generously before bending over to check the flames again. Sokka appraised the process with a critical eye, no doubt comparing her every movement with Suki's cooking. Once the meat was in and the oven closed, her brother nodded his approval.

"Thanks, Katara," he said. He fell silent for a moment, a mixture of pride and pain clouding his features. He stared at the flickering window of the stove, but every so often his eyes would dart to his sister and back. The silence pressed upon them heavily as the mood in the room grew tense and uncomfortable. Katara kept her eyes on the cooking meat, unwilling to broach the subject she knew dwelled in the front of Sokka's mind. Finally, with an exhale, Sokka began.

"Katara, has he—"

"No," she cut in with a murmur. "No, he hasn't talked to me about marrying him. He's busy, Sokka. Once all these problems have quieted down, we—"

"You'll what?" he interjected. "You'll be together? Katara, the world's problems aren't just going to stop. Being the Avatar is a full-time job. I know you care about Aang and he's my friend, but you're my sister. I want you to be happy."

"I _am _happy," she replied weakly. A spark of anger ignited within her, partly at Sokka for challenging her and partly for his being right. She glared at him, hating his kindness and well-placed concern. "I'm fine waiting for him, Sokka. And if push comes to shove, I'll marry him and help him fix the world. I'll learn everything I can about politics. I don't care what it takes."

"That's just—," Sokka was cut off as a knock came at the door. Katara, glad for the distraction, moved toward the lobby.

"Keep an eye on the meat," she ordered. She paused before answering the door, smoothing out her clothing and brushing her hair back. With a wary smile, she edged the door open and regarded the stranger with a smile. She was an Earth Kingdom woman, young, with a noticeable Ba Sing Se security uniform. The emblem of the Earth kingdom was imprinted on her right shoulder, while the rest of the outfit consisted of a long sleeved top and long pants. The fabric was forest green with a golden border on the sleeves and cuffs. Altogether, it was a brighter look than that of the Dai Li, but Katara was still chillingly reminded of their similarities.

"Lady Katara," the young lady greeted her with a bow. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm honored to extend an invitation to you from the steward himself." She took an envelope from her pocket, green and gold like her uniform and marked with the heavy seal of nobility. Katara took the envelope, forcing a small smile for the sake of hospitality. When she made to close the door, the security member placed her hand on the frame. Her smile was friendly, but her arm was all muscle and force.

"If I may, Lady Katara," she said, "I am obligated to ensure that you read the letter in my presence, without the outside knowledge of others."

"Um," Katara managed, "would you like to come in? My brother is inside, but he doesn't have to hear." Her heart was hammering against her ribs. No doubt she was being summoned to the meeting Sokka had mentioned earlier. Judging from her guest's smile, she had made a wise decision.

"Your brother is Sokka of the Southern Water Tribe, correct? Married and currently living with his wife and child on Kyoshi Island?" Katara nodded, unnerved by her observations. No doubt the Ba Sing Se security members all knew of Aang and his friends, knew the details of their lives down to every minute degree. She showed her visitor into the lobby, providing the proper affirmations and nods as the young woman thanked her and complimented the Avatar's exquisite mansion. In truth, compliments of this nature did little to praise Aang, given that the house had been provided and furnished by Steward Hei. Nonetheless, Katara accepted them all gracefully.

"It shows great friendship, that the Avatar would let you live here while he is away," her guest commented. She regarded Katara closely, as if she were analyzing her thoughts and secret frailties. She did her best to endure the inspection, but her heart refused to slow its violent pace against her ribs. "I understand that you and the Avatar have always been very close." Her firm, inquisitive gaze prodded Katara for an excuse.

"Yes," she said, willing her voice to be calm and confident. "We've been friends since I found him in an iceberg five years ago. Excuse me," she began, seeing an unwelcome question form in the young woman's eyes, "what is your name?"

"Oh, my apologies," she replied, though her tone spoke otherwise. "My name is Miang. I am chief Earthbender of the second squad in the Ba Sing Se security force." She bowed to Katara, who returned the formal gesture. Katara couldn't shake the feeling of exposure around this girl, whose eyes followed her every movement and expression with unwavering attention. A moment's peace came as a relief when Chief Miang nodded at the envelope clutched in her hands. "Lady Katara, if you would be so kind as to read the invitation. I don't want to extend your hospitality."

"It's no problem," she replied automatically, although truthfully she was eager to have the chief leave. She rummaged around in Aang's writing desk for a knife, feeling increasingly awkward as time passed. Previously, she had been completely comfortable in Aang's house, so long as she kept it relatively clean; even when he returned to a mess, which was uncommon, he was humorously forgiving. But under Chief Miang's stare, she felt like a thief going through the Avatar's belongings. Relief washed over her when she grabbed the knife, slicing the envelope open cleanly and unfolding the letter inside. Even the paper looked expensive, with a fine gold sheen and a rich border surrounding the message. The lovely script suggested that Steward Hei had hired a professional to write it.

"To the esteemed Lady Katara of the Southern Water Tribe," it began. The silence pressing down on them was uncomfortable, so Katara began to read out loud. "Due to the magnitude and multitude of services Avatar Aang has committed to performing for our war-torn nations, I, humble Steward Ji Hei of Ba Sing Se, have formulated a plan to best serve him in his endeavors. To ensure that every available method is considered, I feel that your assistance would be of great importance to our cause. Avatar Aang is shouldering the weight of the entire world, Lady Katara, and it is my belief that you, as his friend and comrade, would be a valuable asset to any plan.

"It grieves me to mention the events of three years ago, but," Katara stopped for a moment, her hands trembling. She noted with surprise how tightly her fists were clenched. Clearing her throat and banishing the sudden pain in her eyes, she continued, "…but it would also be in your best interests to attend the meeting. In order to ensure that such an incident does not befall you, or any of Avatar Aang's companions, further measures must be taken. This meeting will take place on the fifteenth day of the seventh month and is tentatively scheduled to last three days. I hope you attend, Lady Katara, and I am confident that your cooperation will make every difference in the Avatar's future and the fate of the world. Sincerely, Steward Ji Hei." Katara fell silent, mentally squashing the urge to chuckle. Steward Hei's intentions seemed pure, but the end of his letter was idealistic, almost naïve. She glanced at Chief Miang, whose eyes were ever vigilantly trained on hers.

"I accept," she said numbly. "Of course."

"Perfect," Chief Miang replied. "My squad and I will arrive here in the morning to escort you to the palace. Also, this isn't included in the letter, but your brother is also welcome to attend. Now," she stood, "I must be going. I will inform Steward Hei of your decision. Thank you." She bowed swiftly and allowed herself out, ignoring Katara's halfhearted protests. Once the door was closed and the chief was a fair way down the road, Katara turned toward the hall to the kitchen.

"You can stop hiding," she said dryly. "She's gone."

Sokka inched out from behind the corner, looking every bit the proud eavesdropper. He strode over to the window and peeked out curiously; when he was satisfied that the chief was gone, he turned back to Katara. His eyes were furrowed in concentration, his hand coming up to pull at the stubble of his chin. His suspicions mirrored her own, no doubt.

"Well, we're both going," he muttered. "I can't figure out why they would mention three years ago, though."

"I don't know," she murmured wearily. Her left knee ached and she sat down on the sofa, massaging it unconsciously. Sokka's sad gaze followed her hand. "I'm not sure what I could do to help so much. The letter sounded as if I was a key part in the meeting. Did you hear how the steward kept using my name? It's like he's trying to get my attention," she trailed off, pensive. Sokka threw his hands in the air, frustrated. Before they could consider the matter further, a horrid smell wafted in through the hall to the kitchen. Katara jumped to her feet, but her brother was already sprinting away to save the meat.

"Maybe you should've spent more time cooking and less eavesdropping!" she called after him, well aware that her scolding was pointless. She waited for a moment, listening intently as yelps and whimpers issued from the kitchen. Katara shook her head and strode into the kitchen, suppressing a giggle when she noted his burnt fingertips and a charred, angry pan of meat hissing atop the oven. She pulled a stream of water from her canteen and gripped her brother by the wrists. Sokka watched, both parts awed and mortified as she healed his fingers. When she pulled the water back into the canteen he simply stared, wiggling his fingers experimentally. A gusty sigh was released.

"I can't get used to that," he said. "It's so weird, but really calming."

"Thanks," Katara replied, although she wasn't sure if he'd paid her a compliment.

"Do you think this meeting really is about helping Aang?" he asked suddenly, as if the thought had been lingering in the back of his mind ever since he learned of the gathering. She could understand his suspicion and share it, but it was less stressful to assume otherwise. Besides, any force attempting to harm the Avatar, the White Lotus, master Earth and Waterbenders _and _the Fire Lord would have to be powerful, inconceivably so. Katara knew she was being overconfident, but she would rather err and improvise than deal with paranoia. She nodded wearily.

"I think so. That's the only clear part of the invitation, after all."

"I'm still not sure I buy it," her brother muttered. "I'm going, too." His expression darkened. "They may try to make you agree to something you don't like. Are you ready for that, Katara?" From his tone, she deduced that he had been waiting to say this for some time and still a great deal went unspoken. Her brother's mind was heavy with possibilities.

"I'm ready," she said with a nod. "I'll do whatever I can to help Aang."

x

Toph barreled through the wilderness of the Earth Kingdom at an astonishing speed, considering the factors which would have served to set her back when she was twelve. First, she hadn't used bending to cross such a distance since her escape from Xin Fu and Yu, years ago. That she was able to recall such an abnormal technique with familiarity impressed her, along with the fact that her bending had improved enough to make the earth wave faster. Secondly, she was bending a still, stable patch of earth for her unwelcome companions. As she formed the wave, knocking down foliage and leaving a clear path as they went, The Duke bellowed directions and Pipsqueak made casual jokes.

"See those hills in the distance, Toph? There are three large ones in the distance," The Duke called from behind. Toph took a moment to observe with her feet, noting the very landmarks with precise accuracy. They were approximately three miles ahead; Toph patted herself on the back, chagrined to admit that neither of her companions would congratulate her.

"I see 'em," she answered.

"When we cross those hills, we'll have to change course. We've still got some mountains and Serpent's Pass to go, but we're making very impressive time." The observation was the closest thing he had come to making an actual compliment. "I'm curious, Toph, where did you learn this technique?"

"I made it up," she replied, both parts annoyed and flattered. "But Earthbenders before me have probably used it."

Having The Duke and Pipsqueak as her traveling companions was a decent idea on the surface, but little details about their company wormed their way through her thin patience and served to infuriate her. For example, Pipsqueak ate. All the time. And, consequently, Toph had to stop her exhilarating wave and put all her plans on hold for a bathroom break, which inevitably took ages because her companions insisted on resting. As if standing motionless for a couple hours was tiring! _She _was the one doing all the work, darn it, and if somebody didn't acknowledge her, she would lose her temper. Toph didn't consider herself moody or self-centered, but present company was bringing out the worst in her. Also, The Duke – or just "Duke," as she had come to call him out of a pathetic sense of spite – drilled her with questions about Earthbending whenever he felt the need (which was all the time). From her first Earthbending experience to every detail about the Bei Fong family tree, Toph was bombarded with a myriad of queries, few of which seemed relatively scientific. As far as her family went, Toph was happily ignorant. Duke had sighed, exasperated with her obvious disinterest, and his small grief was enough to lighten her mood.

Another thing that annoyed her was The Du—Duke's, _Duke's_ insistence on calling her by her first name. That in itself was no sin, but he did it more often than was usual and had a peculiar way of saying it. One would think that "Toph" was a very simple thing to say, but Duke made the name his own, adding a strange, unique lilt to his voice whenever he used it. He was doing it only for the sake of annoying her and his success was astonishing.

"Toph." There he went again! "Has Earthbending always come easily to you?"

"Yeah," she muttered, trying to curb her annoyance.

"You never had any trouble with a technique? Never had a rough spot?"

"Oh. Well, when I was first learning, but that was because of a language barrier," she chuckled. Faint vibrations from behind deciphered Duke, his head snapping up quickly as he processed her words. He had a pencil in hand and was scribbling furiously in his notes.

"Language barrier? Please explain," she could hear a smile in his words. At the same moment, the hills rolled beneath them. Toph stopped and Pipsqueak immediately jumped off, knees clamped together in an effort to keep his bowels under control. As he found privacy behind a nearby tree – which did nothing for Toph's feet, despite her attempts to ignore it – Duke continued writing. With no other means of killing time, she explained.

"I was taught Earthbending by badger moles." She ignored Duke's quiet exhalation of awe. "Obviously we didn't speak the same language, so that took some work. I think… they felt some kind of kinship toward me, since we were all blind." She added the last bit in a moment of tense silence. The scratching sound of the pencil stopped and Toph felt stifled by quiet. Were it not for her feet, she would think Duke gone altogether; even his breath was silent and shallow.

"Toph, that's…" He trailed off, then, "That's amazing. And you never had any experience before that? Never a hint of Earthbending?"

"No," she muttered, somewhat uncomfortable. "But after they taught me, the rest came easily. Except for Metalbending. That took a little work." She frowned, remembering the unyielding metal beneath her hands, the sudden surge of obedience once it had first buckled. She'd never considered how easily they came to her once the initial obstacle of the element was mastered. After bending her first bit of earth deep within the hollow, dark tunnels of the badger moles, all other Earthbending was simply a hobby to explore. Once she discovered her talent, the rest was relatively simple. The same applied to Metalbending.

"Which way are we headed?" she queried, eager to change the subject. Duke consulted the map for a moment, clearly disgruntled at having his notes interrupted.

"Do you see the end of the foliage over there, where it turns into barren land? We need to go in that direction. Mountains are in the distance, about thirty miles from here. Once we cross those, it's a simple matter of the Serpent's Pass and a few more mountains. If we keep up this pace, we'll reach Ba Sing Se by mid-day tomorrow."

"Forget that," Toph said, massaging her knuckles as Pipsqueak returned from his break. The hulking man saw matching wicked grins on their faces (although Toph was unaware) and sighed. He crawled up the wave wearily and took his place beside Duke. "We'll be there by midnight. Are you two tagalongs ready?"

She didn't wait for an answer; once she was certain they were in place on the stable piece of earth, she slammed her fists into the ground and pushed the wave forward in a powerful burst of force. Her companions had difficulty hanging on, effectively halting their multitasking. Toph decided to accept every small blessing that came her way. Minutes grew into hours, which fell upon each other continuously, endlessly. Duke and Pipsqueak hadn't the luxury of falling asleep, given their precarious hold on the still earth. Every so often Duke would shout at Toph to stop so he could take in his bearings; evening descended upon them swiftly and the distant, twinkling stars couldn't provide sufficient light for reading. Toph often resorted to feeling out nearby landmarks and naming them, which the Duke tried to connect with vague recollections of the map. They had to stop twice because Pipsqueak kept dozing and losing his balance; Duke managed to catch him once, but he fell a second time. Toph refused to feel guilty, especially given his perfectly healthy body (after ascertaining that nothing was broken or sprained, she ignored the bruises) when they hoisted him back onto the wave.

Secretly, Toph was glad she had a guide; the landscape sped by in a blur of foliage, barren plains, and mountains, and the pattern repeated itself over and over. Thankfully they'd taken a route around the desert, for her Earthbending would be handicapped both in site and transportation, sunken worthlessly into the sifting grains.

A lapse in repetition came with the Serpent's Pass, which they approached well into the night. Toph slowed the pace of the wave, opting instead for dexterity over the jagged mountains. She realized that Pipsqueak was something of a backseat driver; every time she toed the edge of a cliff, he began to fidget and closer contact with the chasms made him grunt nervously. Duke was infuriatingly calm throughout, reassuring his friend whenever necessary and going so far as to mock Toph.

"You can see that cliff, can't you? I thought your feet were better than a pair of eyes." The words were passive, but his tone was all cruel humor. Every time he subtly mocked her, Toph was torn between displaying her mastery over earth and spiting them by pitching them off the cliff... But then her guide would be gone and she would lose her way, as far as they'd come. They reached the yawning gap between the two strips of jagged land to find a bridge, conveniently constructed and supervised by two exhausted guards on each side. Toph briefly considered flashing her invitation and going about crossing the bridge the right way, but her mind was clouded with exhaustion and prone to irrational decisions. Pipsqueak and Duke gave yelps of surprise as she shifted the wave into the side of a cliff, leaving momentum to carry them to the foot of the bridge. The guards could only gawk, weary and slow, as a group of teenagers flew across the bridge. Upon further inspection, they would find grooves in the metal, as though it had been forcibly pulled forward to propel someone to the other side.

They crossed the empty plains and very nearly struck the side of the outer wall. Forgoing the proper, necessary entrance examination, Toph threw up a gap in the wall and replaced it once they were safely inside. Pipsqueak was properly thankful, but Duke merely nodded, pleased, as if the entire plan had been his and she was merely a bystander. Grinding her teeth, Toph grabbed her unwelcome companions by the collars and hauled them across a second expanse of empty land. She broke through the inner wall with an unceremonious crack, made a hasty repair job, and shoved them into a late-night monorail. The Pipsqueak continued thanking her, generously adding compliments on her Earthbending. Duke was preoccupied with the lights of Ba Sing Se and while Toph usually wouldn't have minded not being praised for bending – which came as easily as breathing – something about his blatant disregard left her fuming.

They came upon Aang's mansion very late in the evening. Duke glanced up at the sky, tracing the moon's path through the dark heavens. A low chuckle escaped him and while Toph knew nothing good would come of asking, she couldn't prevent Pipsqueak from being curious.

"Oh, it's nothing," he said blithely when questioned. Pipsqueak prodded him, making Toph secretly curious. Finally, he shrugged and yawned. "Well, it's one in the morning."

Duke was lucky that an exhausted, half-asleep Katara answered the door when she did. If she had been a moment later, she would have greeted only Toph and Pipsqueak. In the morning, when her mind was clear and curious, Katara would have no doubt seen the smart-aleck buried up to his ears in the street.

x

In the deep recesses of her memory, a mother and daughter were together.

_"I love you, Azula," she would croon, tying her daughter's hair into a bun atop her head. "I love you. And what beautiful hair you have!"_

_ The child would stare at her with curious, inquisitive eyes. She was calm for the moment, calm and sweet and innocent. The mother pressed a kiss to her daughter's head and pulled her clo—_

_ "Sit still, Azula," she murmured as she fastened a pin to the dress, measuring the final fitting. "You're growing so fast, I can hardly keep up. Sit still, I said. I don't want to prick you."_

_ "I want to go play!" she cried with a stamp. The needle in the dress came loose and sank into her thigh, prompting a wail. Her mother pulled it out quickly and removed the fabric, pressing a firm thumb to the injury to stem the bleeding._

_ "There, now, what did I tell you," she chided softl—_

_ She was out in the yard, observing her older brother with keen, unnerving focus. She watched the stances, amateur and uncoordinated. She watched sparks flicker from his fingers, the look of absolute awe as he realized his first successful Firebending technique._

_ "Mother!" he cried. "Mother, look what I did!"_

_ "That's wonderful, Zuko," Mother would cheer, clapping. Azula watched, brow furrowed contemptuously. She mimicked her brother, recalling Father's words – breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth – and heat bloomed within her. It began in her stomach and ran up through her extended arm, bursting out with a healthy glow on the end of her fingertips. She cradled the flame close, delighting in her newfound gift, eager to show Mother that she was bette—_

_ "I know what you really think of me," she snarled at her mother's reflection. She willed herself to turn, to confront and destroy, but something stable and unsullied in her mind held firm. Do. Not. Move. "You think I'm a monster."_

_ "No," her mother murmured. "I love you, Azu—"_

She woke with a start. Wildly, she looked around the dark, dank room, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Her mind was heavy with memories and her heart, oh, her heart was so full of an emotion she could never place.

_To be continued…_

_Author's Note: I am so sorry. D: I was going to cram a lot of fun and plot into this part, but it came out all boring and blah. Please, please forgive me and try to keep reading. I promise the next part will get right into the meeting and all of Steward Hei's notorious (?) plans will be revealed. There will be much "Whaaat?" and "Oh no she DIDN'T" in there. _

_Please have a little faith in me. I will try not to disappoint. Dx The next part may not come out for some time, given I'm still getting used to classes and my little editor/proofreader is also settling into a new school routine.  
_


	3. Decisions

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Chapter Three: Decisions**

Aang yawned widely and twisted his head to one side, popping out the stiffening kinks with a grunt. Beneath him, Appa echoed the yawn in a deep, resounding timbre. The Avatar took one hand from the reins to bury his hand in the bison's thick fur, scratching rhythmically. Appa leaned into the touch and Aang stopped the gesture with a chuckle, well-aware that they would lose course if they tilted too much. He gazed out upon the great plain of clouds and wondered, wearily, if they had already lost their way. There was no sense of adventure to compare to floating above the clouds, denied of landmarks to guide them, but Aang was primarily concerned about reaching Ba Sing Se as quickly as possible. After weeks of navigating politics and performing good deeds (because apparently nobody besides the Avatar could), he needed a sense of homecoming.

Of course, it wasn't the city that offered a home; Ba Sing Se alone was the last place Aang wanted to be. But more than anything he missed Katara, and wherever she waited was home. It was a silly, lovesick thought, but he wouldn't alter the truth. His mind trailed to the empty seat behind him and a potent mixture of guilt and loneliness bloomed within him, stifling any pleasant reflections. Four years ago, Katara would have followed him anywhere, stoutly claiming the back seat as her own. Despite his idealistic notions of traveling together, he wouldn't – couldn't – consider it a present possibility. Their agreement for her to wait had been mutual, a necessity on his part, and he would endure loneliness as long as she was safe.

_She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself, _he inwardly grumbled. _Anyone who thinks otherwise – myself included! – can go jump in the Boiling Lake. _Such thoughts were naïve, selfish products of his subconscious mind. He humored them because he couldn't voice them in front of public officials, all of which had cold logic on their side. Certainly they could ignore the countless times Katara displayed her strength. It was one moment of weak self-sacrifice that they couldn't forget.

"She's too brave," he muttered aloud. "Too brave and selfless."

Appa replied with a low, weary rumble.

"I know, Buddy," Aang murmured. "I know you're tired. But you have to wake up! We still have a few days to go." He gently flicked the reins and the bison roused to awareness, picking up speed. It was early morning and the sun cast a misty gold across the endless stretch of clouds. Aang fought off the insistent urge to close his eyes and drift for a few hours; he knew he would fall asleep, and that would put them off course. Plus, it would feel like hypocrisy to Appa. His stomach grumbled and he groped around in the bag at his side for an apple, a handful of lychee nuts – anything to wake him up and settle the persistent void. His hand settled on something round and smooth and before his mind could catch up, he pulled a small picture frame from his knapsack. Aang's eyes widened as he beheld the girl in the picture. She was perhaps a year younger than him with sweet, gentle features and uncommonly light hair. Her skin, upon close examination, was as light and smooth as porcelain. The girl herself was innocent, but that hardly quelled Aang's darkening mood. He momentarily considered throwing the picture overboard, but nice-guy morals shoved it angrily back into the bag. What if the falling frame struck a passerby atop the head? Besides, if the girl's father had any reason to suspect her picture being discarded, he would likely send ten more to replace it.

"I thought I cleaned them all out before I left!" he growled to Appa, who remained silent throughout his companion's rage. "Why can't all those stuffy aristocrats leave me _alone_?" The recollection of noblemen shoving pictures in his face, their eyes alight with greed, left Aang weary and frustrated. For every duty he completed as the Avatar, a multitude of others rushed to fill the vacancy. Yet people couldn't put two and two together and realize that he wasn't married because he was busy being a world-class servant. So, eager to exploit their daughters for a familial connection with the Avatar, they volunteered their children for marriage. Aang met the first offers with flustered confusion and polite refusal, but as his sixteenth birthday passed, the offers grew tenfold. He grew used to the blatant advertising of politicians. He was no ladies' man, but he became accustomed to gently rejecting women. As a twelve-year-old, Aang would have never seen such popularity and attention in his future. True, he expected the constant, oppressive workload that came with spiritual obligations, but he could never predict being concerned with any woman besides Katara. The minor annoyance of continuous offers developed over the years, transforming into a constant frustration which would not be appeased. If Aang had his way, noblemen would simply accept his refusal without further argument; but they never failed to mention Katara, how tragic that they couldn't be together, and wouldn't my daughter make a nice, safe substitute?

Such was rarely the frankness of nobility, but their meaning was always the same. Aang often expressed his distress to the members of the White Lotus, most of which were easy to locate due to their prestigious work. Iroh was the one with which speaking came the most easily, often in a hurried, angry torrent of repressed emotion. The old man's encouraging words were a temporary comfort, one that Aang welcomed readily. He truthfully wished he could speak with his friends about the matter, but they all had lives and concerns of their own. Zuko had his hands full running the Fire Nation, Toph was establishing her name in Omashu, Sokka had a family to care for, and Katara…

Katara had her own burdens. Aside from being too willing to through her life away, she was forced to sit idly and wait. Aang was striving to heal the world, but his duty didn't conflict with his nature. Katara was proud and brave, and waiting while he faced danger went against every fiber of her being. They hadn't spoken about the matter, but he knew her well enough to make assumptions without a hint of doubt. If she had to fight impatience and loneliness then he would keep his own small grievances a secret.

The picture of the girl weighed guiltily against him, promising countless to follow with only two possible options. Aang could keep things as they were, independent and miserable for numerous reasons. _Or, _he thought, and the single word was so full of fragile hope that he had to muster courage to finish it.

_Or what?_

He had entertained the notion on numerous occasions. There had been many times when he'd been beside her and the temptation to ask had been so strong it stifled all other thought. He endlessly kept his mouth shut, promising himself that later would be better, that they would have time once the world had been healed. And yet, as he drifted through a vast expanse of sky, Aang knew the world would never be completely restored. Conflict and grief were its constant companions and no amount of spiritual power would remedy that. A chill gale engulfed him before tearing upwards into the heavens; it was absolute freedom, and the unbound Airbender within him longed to chase it. Aang had a momentary, selfish urge to abandon the world and its attachments for such freedom. The notion struck too close to Guru Patik's suggestions and the Avatar turned his gaze down, ashamed.

He had the power to do it. He could strike out on his own and disappear, much like he had done over a century ago, and the world would be powerless against his wishes. But even as the dream entered his mind it was rejected. An unbreakable earthly attachment stood in its place, powerful and courageous and, despite popular belief, patient. Katara was the confounding factor. Despite the importance of his friends and beliefs, it was she who kept him firmly tethered to reality. Aang realized that he would never reject her grip. He would be lost if she relinquished it. A sudden burst of clarity struck him, much the kind that would normally be revealed after hours of meditation. All at once the possibility of marrying Katara became a concrete notion. It seemed foolish that he had ever thought to wait. They were in love and – as the onset of puberty had long-since demonstrated – he wanted her. Spirits, he hoped she felt the same way. Aang was seventeen, but the world of adults was still so confounding.

"Plus, some politicians won't stop mentioning a harem," he grumped to Appa. He was naïve by certain standards, but he wasn't stupid. True, he was concerned about rebuilding the Air Nomad population, but he was firmly against resorting to such methods. Perhaps it was selfish, but he was the Avatar and it was about time he'd abused the power for his own benefit. The threat lasted just as long as he was single, or so he hoped. Aang felt a goofy grin tug at the corners of his face. After mere minutes of consideration, he was cropping up a few good excuses. Petulant frustration had driven him to the decision, but every moment of deliberation drew his weary mind into a higher plateau of wonder.

_How could I have waited so long? _he wondered, incredulous. But that folly was behind him. He would alter their bleak futures, given Katara's consent – there was a whole new level of anxiety! The dream was perfect in his mind, but it couldn't become a concrete reality without her. Aang wasn't overly concerned about being rejected. He and Katara were bound irrevocably; he knew her mind and soul just as clearly as she understood his. No, the only formidable obstacle would be the world. No doubt politicians would argue and squirm, denied any further opportunities to hoist their daughters into aristocracy, but Aang couldn't bring himself to care. He'd made up his mind and the world would have to accept that fact. Brimming with anticipation, he gazed out into the distance, as if the walls of Ba Sing Se would materialize within moments rather than days. His spirit, freed from the confines of doubt and restraint, soared.

X

"What's that awful smell?"

Everybody at the table turned to regard Toph, who in turn lifted her nose and sniffed the air with all the expertise of a bloodhound. Sokka shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly wishing to dissolve into the floor. Katara, having grown used to the smell, merely jerked a thumb in his direction as she moved a wad of rice to her mouth. Her cool dismissal of his plight left him to be devoured by the wolves – Toph, Pipsqueak and Duke regarded him blankly.

"I didn't know they could smell like that," Duke finally intoned, amused. Pipsqueak snickered and Toph pulled a disgusted face.

"Honestly, Sokka? What the heck did you eat last night?" she demanded.

"It wasn't me!" he said defensively. Then he backtracked, stumbling over his words and waving his hands for emphasis. "Well, yeah, it was me, but not in the way you're thinking! I came here a couple days ago to crash until the meeting, but there was no meat in the house! I had to go to the market or I'd starve." Then, seeing their looks of skepticism, he turned to his sister. "Tell them, Katara!"

"He brought home a pile of half-rotted meat," she replied. "Spirits know if he'll get indigestion from it, but it quieted him down for a bit. That was a few days ago, but apparently you can still smell it." Sokka groaned, realizing his cause was independent and lost from the start. Toph and her companions didn't bother to stifle their giggles while Katara's mouth quirked up at the corners.

"It's hard to believe you're married with a kid," Toph sneered. "If it weren't for Suki, I'd be worried about Kuro's role models."

"I'm a perfectly good dad!" Sokka snapped, mustering up whatever dignity he could manage. "I'll have you know that Kuro's a two-year-old genius!"

"Thank the Spirits for Suki's genes," Katara smirked. "I couldn't deal with a little clone of you running around." All but Sokka laughed, not so much at her words as his mortified expression. Although she hadn't seen her nephew in some time, Katara knew he mirrored his father in numerous traits, despite being a typical, shapeless infant. Kuro had Suki's blue-gray eyes, but as of yet little else could be traced to resemblance. She wondered, idly, if he would inherit his parents' penchant for weapons. It was extremely likely.

"When's this Miang lady supposed to come?" Sokka queried, successfully steering the conversation in a safe direction. Katara's smile fell and he wilted with relief and a small, small bit of guilt. Toph and the others had gone silent, no doubt intrigued by the mystery surrounding the meeting.

"This morning," she replied, standing and placing her cleared plate in the sink. She suddenly felt weary, as if they hadn't spent the previous day lying about idly. After Toph and her companions arrived in the wee hours of the morning, they located rooms and fell asleep without taking off their dusty, travel-beaten clothes. Toph, of course, had packed only the bare necessities. Her desire to be rid of Ba Sing Se before she came stung, but it was entirely understandable. Katara was pulled back to reality as the tap water grew unbearably hot, very nearly scalding her hands. She wiped them tenderly on a dishtowel and continued, "She should be here soon. Within the hour, maybe."

"I hope they don't expect this to be some kind of fancy-do," Toph grumbled. "I ain't changing out of my clothes. They can deal with it."

"I'm sure they'll mind, but they won't say anything," Katara grinned. Toph's blatant disregard for the new order in the city was a relief. Katara had started to wonder if she was being paranoid, considering Miang's unnerving gaze when she presented the invitation. To be surrounded by her friends during the meeting was a great comfort; she would need support when the politicians jumped on the incident with her last major gathering. The memory brought a familiar ache to her pride, but she couldn't very well soothe it. She compromised by taking her chair and kneading her stiff knee discreetly beneath the table. She clenched her teeth behind closed lips and trained her face to a passive mask. But there was no disguising her silent, sharp intake of breath and Toph grew attentively still. Her pale green eyes were vacant, but Katara could see how worry knitted her brow and set her mouth in a dark frown.

"Katara, does it hu—," she began to say, but she was cut off by a sharp rap against the door. Katara lifted herself to her feet a bit too quickly, teetering precariously before regaining her balance and hurrying to answer. Toph's feet deciphered the uneven hobble of her step. The Earthbender shoveled a heap of rice into her mouth to clear her throat, which had become suspiciously narrow. Normalcy was a fine guise, but every so often dark reality would strike unwelcomed, leaving them shaken. Darn it, her eyes were prickling. Her eyes were only ever alive when she cried, which was why Toph much preferred them blank and dead. She took a deep, slow breath through her nose and waited until the threat subsided. It was only then that her feet made her aware of the bustle. She stood and made her way to the door, where everybody else was headed in a shrill clamor. She didn't bother going back to her room for the invitation; if they mistrusted her, she would happily leave. As she approached the door, she became keenly aware of Pipsqueak and Duke slipping into their shoes. Toph frowned. Those two were hardly friends and she doubted such a status would afford them access to the meeting. Nonetheless, she kept her mouth shut.

"Are you ready?" Katara asked. She held the door ajar to display a young woman in the forest green and gold of a security squad member – Chief Miang, the others surmised. Katara waited until Chief Miang had moved before opening the door completely, no doubt to allow Pipsqueak the proper room to move. As it became clear that two unexpected guests were accompanying them, the chief frowned.

"I'm sorry," she said, sounding anything but apologetic, "but did you two receive invitations?"

"No," Duke replied sunnily. "But we're good friends of Toph's, so we thought we'd tag along." Toph gave an ill-disguised snort. Good friends? Rather than rejecting them immediately, she waited. Toph couldn't place her finger on the exact cause, but she didn't care for the chief. Perhaps it was her position of authority in Ba Sing Se, which, though past experience, had warning signs all over it. She knew how Aang had labored to rebuild a decent system within the city, but she exercised caution nonetheless.

The woman in question took a moment to regard her companions, eyeing their common clothes. If Toph concentrated, she could see Chief Miang's eyeballs moving up and down. She shifted her focus to the small group at the street corner; no doubt they were the chief's squad. Toph knew little of the news in Ba Sing Se, but ever since foreign bending had fallen out of favor, even the worst Earthbenders were boosted into a new level of aristocracy. The Dai Li were disbanded, but it was too easy for the steward to have benders in the squads. He needed capable bodyguards and if the people wanted to praise their native benders, who would deny them?

"I'm sorry," Miang said again, "but I was under the impression that Miss Bei Fong would be coming alone. She and her parents are not on speaking terms, so she very likely wouldn't arrive with friends of the Bei Fongs. The suggestion in the invitation was purely for the purpose of manners. Miss Bei Fong?" She addressed Toph, whose mouth had gone dry at the staggering realization that the steward's chiefs knew everything about her. She was also enraged that the woman would so blatantly state her familial issues, but she bit back her reflexive confrontation. "Miss Bei Fong, are these two friends of the Bei Fongs?"

"Er," she managed, stupidly, before uttering a simple, "no." She could tell from the way his head swiveled that Duke was glowering at her, but she ignored it. If her instincts spoke true and the chiefs were a force to be reckoned with, she didn't want the duty of babysitting her companions during the meeting. A cold hand gripped her heart as she considered the missing Dai Li agents. Aang and the White Lotus had judged individual members of the Dai Li, sending them to prison or granting them freedom based upon their decisions. Aang came away from the experience with a new view on many of the agents – they were not evil, only oppressed and talented. However, a few agents of the disbanded organization had failed to arrive for judgment. Aang, the White Lotus, and the steward's newly-formed squads combed the city for them. Once it became clear that the missing agents had abandoned Ba Sing Se, a few squads were sent out to search in the surrounding wilderness, only to return empty-handed. As Toph recalled the distant, unpleasant incident, she grew very tense and still. But before she could decide anything, Pipsqueak trundled by and Duke swatted her shoulder. She startled to attention.

"I guess we'll be waiting here, then," he said amiably, though his pulse betrayed a quietly seething fury just beneath the consent. "See you later, Toph. It was a pleasure, Chief Miang." He closed the door before any response could be made. As Miang and her squad escorted them slowly through the streets, Katara slowed her pace until she was side-by-side with the young Earthbender. Yesterday, Toph's observations had led her to believe that Katara was anxious and miserable, albeit quietly so. She had kept keen records of her friend's moods as well as she could, given the varying signs she subconsciously offered. Katara was prone to dry, not-as-goofy-as-Sokka humor, and she was as kind and compassionate as ever. But Toph learned to listen to silence; her friend would take to it for stretches of time, keeping to herself. No doubt her mind was far away with Aang. She also kept her hands occupied whenever their absent friend was mentioned, be it with a chore, a stream of water, or her twiddling thumbs. This had only occurred a few times over the course of their stay, but Toph was certain of the nervous habit.

"So," Katara began slowly, and Toph could hear a smirk in it, "the Duke just showed up at your house unexpectedly?"

"No matter what he says, just call him 'Duke,'" Toph replied quickly. "And yes, he and his massive sidekick appeared and decided to tag along whether I liked it or not."

"I was surprised when you said it was Duke," Katara commented. There was a small amount of wonder in her voice that bewildered Toph. "I only saw him briefly when he was young, but he's certainly changed. He seems more… well, confident."

"Cocky's more like it," she replied irately. "He understands how annoying he can be, but he doesn't try to change. No," she ground her teeth, remembering his wry, caustic remarks during the majority of their journey from Omashu. "He _uses _it to annoy me more!"

"I can't believe four years can change a person so much." Katara was still hung up on the change. From Toph's observations, Pipsqueak had remained much the same while Duke underwent a complete transformation. Their reunion would testify to his changed height and voice, but the young Earthbender hadn't taken the time to examine them further. Her friend remedied the necessity without intention, "He's kind of handsome."

"Coming from you, that means he's bald, skinny, and a touch feminine," she sneered. Katara slapped her gently on the shoulder with a laugh, but her heart was not entirely supportive of the gesture. Toph found herself wishing – for the umpteenth time since her arrival – that Aang was present. She had no doubt that Katara's weary, ill-concealed despondency would vanish with his company. She wished she could change the subject to her suspicions regarding the security squads, but Miang was walking only a few meters ahead and was very likely to hear. She was well-prepared to gripe about the inconveniences that were Duke and Pipsqueak, but recalling their tiresome presence was almost as exhausting as the actual ordeal.

The distance from Aang's mansion to the palace was fittingly short, given his importance outranked any passable monarch's. Katara and Toph nattered away the remainder of the walk, mostly for the sake of appearing too busy to speak with Miang. The squad chief seemed happily detached from their mingling, but the two girls independently decided they disliked her remarks and eyes, both of which comprehended uncomfortably. Sokka also included himself in their conversation, adding useless comments where he saw fit. He never spoke of important subjects, including Suki and Kuro; no doubt Miang knew plenty about them, but he was unnerved enough about it. The palace rose before them, bulky and only slightly less oppressive than its past exterior. No physical changes had been made to the palace, but the Dai Li's disbanding and steward's ascension brought a marginal degree of safety. The three were ushered in and led through the main hall into the throne room, where a lengthy table had been placed. A lovely, ornate green and gold tablecloth lay heavily atop it and long rows of stylish chairs stood at its sides. Cards with names stood blamelessly at respective seats and Katara noted, relieved, that they all sat together.

"Please take a seat," Miang said pleasantly. Her squad members took their positions by the doors, looking altogether unmoved and dull. Katara guided Toph to her name card and sat beside her, noting with surprise that the chairs were exceptionally comfortable. Sokka made an, "Oooh!" of surprise before leaning back unceremoniously, stretching with exaggerated relaxation. Katara shot him a look that he refused to heed. Toph wanted to mirror his nonchalance toward social etiquette, but she remained upright and stiff. The long table was bare, save for themselves, and the steward was nowhere to be seen. Katara resisted the urge to twiddle her thumbs and stuffed her hands beneath her knees. Compared to Sokka, who looked tempted to pick his nose simply for the sake of doing it _in the Earth Kingdom Palace,_ she was the picture of a proper guest.

Chief Miang approached them with two squad members flanking her. She bent toward Sokka, keen eyes searching and comprehending with unsettling accuracy. As he hastened to straighten himself, she reached out an open hand.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said amiably, "but I must confiscate your weapons." Sokka's eyes went wide for a moment before he stood, pulling a knife from his boot and handing it to her. He looked slightly strained when he took the boomerang from his side and surrendered it, but he managed without a whimper. Miang's eyes went pointedly to Katara, who relinquished her canteen without a fuss. They knew Toph's Earthbending exceeded that of the squad members and it wasn't as if they could confiscate the floor. Once Miang and her assistants had retreated, the steward was escorted in by a group of guards. An assembly of noblemen followed him, each dressed in varying cultures and degrees of finery. Katara immediately noted the greens, blues, and reds that defined them. The grandest noblemen vaguely reminded her of peacock-ostriches – they strutted about in luxurious apparel, some ridiculously so.

"There are Zuko and Mai," Toph murmured, and Katara searched the crowd for their familiar faces. Feeling her friend's blind disappointment, Toph pointed in the direction from which she deciphered their footsteps. A smile spread across Katara's face and Sokka imitated her delight when he, too, caught site of them. Mai noticed them first and alerted her husband with a meaningful glance; upon seeing his friends, Zuko offered a small smile and a nod. Once the entire assembly had been seated, the steward stood gracefully. Katara was certain he appreciated his position too much, but she kept her thoughts to herself. It wouldn't do to judge Aang's chosen leader irrationally, even if his status was supposed to be temporary. Steward Ji Hei regarded his audience with a calm, patient smile. He was young for a politician, perhaps in his mid-thirties. He was not terribly handsome, but no politician was expected to be, and there was a certain appeal in his firmly structured jaw. He was of average height and frame, and his eyes were a traditional shade of green. The people of Ba Sing Se adored him and the Earth Kingdom as a whole accepted his rank and reputation.

"My esteemed colleagues, my friends," he began with such a natural air that Katara briefly believed he was improvising, "it's marvelous to see you all in good health. Welcome to the Earth Kingdom Palace. Truly, I am just as much of a guest as you, considering my humble position as steward. It is certainly a blessing to be among such wise, powerful men and women."

He was appealing to the noblemen's pride, and it worked with unnerving ease. The grim expressions worn by many faded, some going so far as to form grudgingly accepting smiles. Katara glanced at Zuko and Mai, noting their calm, collected demeanors. No doubt they heard this speech all the time and had fast grown used to empty flattery. Steward Hei continued to highlight the numerous qualities of his guests, each as inspiring and complimentary as the next. Had Katara paid attention, she would have garnered a valuable slew of triumphs regarding the aristocracy, but she could not bring herself to care. Toph appeared utterly bored, scratching inside her ear and inspecting her fingers for wax, as if a hygiene she took very little care to maintain was suddenly of great priority. Beside her, Sokka sat at attention, but his eyes were glassy and distant.

Katara kept one ear open while she daydreamed about Aang. The familiar ache of his absence assailed her, but she made no attempts to stop the reverie. In the fantasy, she was sitting behind him on Appa, watching his back as he maneuvered the reins with practiced ease. Despite him being absent for weeks at a time – or perhaps because of it – she appreciated the changes that defined his continuous advancement into adulthood. As a twelve-year-old, he'd been a few inches shorter than her. She could remember their awkward, childish kisses, when he'd had to pull her down a fraction to meet her eye-to-eye. In the years following the war, he had undergone a massive growth-spurt, as if one-hundred years of repressed hormones were making a vengeful comeback. Aang shot up until he was almost a head taller than her, and his voice took a strange, almost humorous turn for the opposite. In her daydream, Aang was exactly as she'd last seen him: tall and lithe, with a slender layer of muscle to compliment his otherwise skinny frame. Toph joked about her taste in men, but Katara didn't care; she could stare at him for ages, feeling a pleasant, yet unnerving prickle of something she could not identify.

"Lady Katara?"

"Yes," she replied immediately, glad for her calm tone and steady gaze. It wouldn't do to jolt from her fantasies like a stupid, guilty little girl. She looked to the source of her name and stared Steward Hei in the eye, waiting for his statement. Her hands unconsciously clenched into tense fists.

"What are your opinions on the matter? No doubt your input is crucial, considering the circumstances."

Katara's face grew hot. Of course she had no clue what they were talking about, given that her recollections of Aang's back, smooth save for an old, puckered scar were much more interesting than the present conversation. She glanced over to Sokka, who shrugged imperceptibly. Toph could offer no assistance in terms of facial expression, nor could she communicate a hidden message through their feet. Feeling an utter fool, Katara cleared her throat hoarsely. She willed the floor to swallow her, for Toph to perform an Earthbending technique that would open a yawning cavern into the catacombs beneath the city.

"If I may," a calm, firm tone interjected. "Lady Katara can't be held accountable for this decision. She may be the Avatar's closest companion, but this responsibility would best fall on nobility." Katara willed all her gratitude into a look directed at Zuko, whose faint smile went unnoticed by the aristocracy surrounding them.

"Certainly, certainly," Steward Hei replied quickly, as if the entire idea was ludicrous and not of his own design. "She _is_ only a civilian. What is your opinion, Fire Lord Zuko?"

"The Avatar can look after himself," Zuko replied. "There's no reason to send guards with him as he travels; it would only weigh him down, and the people would begin to see him as a person who needs to be protected, rather than a powerful spirit in human form. Furthermore," he was on a roll and his common sense was having an impact on the others, "he is surrounded by plenty of guards during meetings as it is. If you express an urge to add more, he may very well go into hiding for a hundred years just to get away from it." He offered a smooth, obvious smile to declare his joke. Once assured that he held no bitter feelings for the fool's errand, his peers roared with laughter. Katara, still calming down from her err in attention, felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

"Very well," Steward Hei said merrily. "Since his close companions are so adamant about it, we won't concern ourselves with any more guards than are necessary. However, given that different locations for gathering are more… ahem… susceptible to danger, shall we consider more security in areas that represent a greater threat?" His tone was justifiably cautious, given that the query included all three nations and could easily offend their representatives. An old, rotund Earth Kingdom politician – Chou Phang, as indicated by his name card – scowled and shifted noisily in his seat.

"Now, see here," he boomed, and it was very clear that he never tolerated disrespect. "I don't like your implications, Steward Hei. If you're going to offend somebody, you may as well do it outright, rather than slithering around evasively! My mines are perfectly safe, perfectly, and I won't go through any more senseless checks of improvement!" It occurred to Katara that this was the man who owned the mines of the west coast, particularly the ones surrounding Haru's village. A memory of sitting with Aang in a study, cramming the names and professions of nobility in the Earth Kingdom came to mind. Aang told her a secret: he only recalled some politicians' names because they were humorously correct or ironic. Chou Phang's massive frame fit his name perfectly.

Katara had to stifle a chuckle as Steward Hei tried to soothe Phang's aggravation. In an instant, his kind features grew sharp and menacing, and the phrase "slithering around" struck Katara as entirely appropriate. But the moment she noticed his change, it was gone; his face was smooth and gentle again.

"Now, Master Phang," he said quietly, and his tone had a pacifying effect, "you mustn't jump to conclusions. I was referring to many places of unsatisfactory safety, and while your mines are certainly acceptable, there are too many areas that are not. Indeed, the Earth Kingdom Palace is also an area of concern." Chou Phang settled, mollified by the steward's ready acceptance of his own lackluster security. Steward Hei turned to address the rest of his guests. "We must realize our incapability to complete protect the Avatar. Thankfully, he can compensate for our mistakes. He is, after all, a master of the elements. Unfortunately," he dragged out the word to fill the tense silence and Katara felt dark, miserable expectation bloom within her, "as talented as some of us are, it's impossible to be completely safe from danger. In order to best serve the Avatar, we must ensure the safety of his companions."

Katara's knee ached but she made no move to rub it. She felt the eyes of the noblemen upon her, sensed their heavy judgment. Finally, hating her cowardice, she looked up and met the steward's eyes firmly. His returning stare was sympathetic and considerate, filling her with confused rage. She didn't want to be pitied or tried. She turned her glower to the men and women surrounding her, feeling a small, dark burst of pleasure each time they looked away ashamedly.

"Lady Katara," Steward Hei began slowly, as if he was speaking to an unruly infant, "we have your best interests at heart. Your safety is our top priority, especially given your accident three years ago. One of the main points of this gathering is to organize a solution that will ensure your security. Your life is of the utmost importance, especially considering your connection to the Avatar."

"Are you suggesting guards?" Katara managed. "I know I got hurt once, but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I'm a Waterbending master for a reason." Her small outburst cost her; the others stared at her with undisguised skepticism and disrespect. She briefly wished she hadn't spoken at all, but she dispelled the notion brashly. Why should she sit by idly, surrounded by guards like a helpless damsel when she was perfectly capable of protecting herself? She knew her bending exceeded that of nearly every nobleman present, differences in element aside. She scanned the Waterbenders, searching for a familiar face. She found none and the realization that Master Paku wasn't present merely strengthened her proud resolve. "I don't need guards."

A young woman in Earth Kingdom attire cleared her throat politely and everyone turned to listen. Katara followed suit, somewhat glad to be removed from the spotlight. Upon further observation, she realized that the woman was very young for a politician. She was perhaps a year or two older than herself. Katara wondered if she was the daughter of a politician, but no Earth Kingdom member beside her shared a similar name tag. Katara could not recall the name Rin Wai, but that didn't surprise her; Phang's name had come by coincidence.

"If I may," the young woman said in a high, pixie-like voice. She stood and Katara noted that her body was short and slender, appropriately accommodating the voice. "I would like to speak freely."

"Certainly," Steward Hei replied, "as long as you behave appropriately." Rin Wai nodded and turned to face Katara. The younger woman was taken aback by the obvious confrontation, but she remained still. Rin's eyes were dark and narrow as she spoke.

"Lady Katara," she said, and her voice was angry and accusing, "you think too much of yourself. You think you can keep yourself out of harm, but how did you fare three years ago?" Katara's breath froze in her throat as Rin continued to speak, perfectly aware of and unmoved by the pain she inflicted. "You may be able to fight off would-be assassins, but it only takes one success – or, in your case, one mistake – for a target to die. This gathering is about assisting the Avatar, therefore ensuring your total safety. You're plucky and that's sweet, but this is the real world. You need to consider the Avatar, rather than yourself. Your pride will only lead to disaster and the Avatar's emotional attachment to you would put his duties in jeopardy."

"You speak out of turn, Lady Wai," Zuko interjected, quietly enraged. Beside him, Mai seemed to be fairing slightly better, though her brows were knit together in an undisguised glare. Rin Wai was unaffected by his objection; short as she was, she looked down her nose at them, eyes lidded and smug. Zuko saw her arrogance and resented it. "Your accusations against Lady Katara's personality are rude and unnecessary to the goal of this meeting."

"You must be new at this," Mai added, and although the statement could be interpreted as considerate acknowledgment, her tone was acidic. The barb had a noticeable effect on the young woman; her mouth thinned into an ill-constrained scowl. Steward Hei observed the confrontation quietly, his chin propped atop his folded hands.

"I speak only the truth," Rin Wai said darkly. "Whether she can tolerate it or not depends on her strength of character, not mine. Any rational, unbiased person could see that her running into danger is a matter of bravery, yes, but also of pride. If she were to be critically injured or killed, the Avatar would be emotionally crippled. He wouldn't be able to function, thus impacting his duty to the world. This is a simple matter of her being too selfish to accept our assistance."

"Hold it!" Sokka yelled, standing. Toph did the same, glad for an excuse to cause a ruckus. She slammed the back of her foot to the ground, using her bending to send her comfortable chair sailing through the air. It crashed many meters from the table, splintering loudly. The noblemen were mortified by her behavior but Toph couldn't care less – she would welcome their confrontation. They saw this and subsided into nervous, unkind murmuring. Sokka used their fear to his advantage. "You can't bring her into this, not personally! Katara doesn't want bodyguards because they would get in her way! You can't go around assuming everybody is selfish just because it suits you!"

"And you can make rational decisions?" Rin replied coolly, eyeing him with obvious contempt. "Fine. Tell me, Master Sokka," she made the title an insult, "what would you do if your dear baby sister was killed by an assassin? You think I'm cruel because I don't flatter her character, but when it all comes down to it, would you rather have her dead or humbled? Because the former could happen. It nearly happened three years ago and the world paid dearly. I wasn't there, but the spoken word made it clear enough that Lady Katara is lucky to be a mere cripple." Sokka's eyes flashed with a mixture of hurt and rage. Katara shared his anger and her voice returned.

"I'm not a cripple!" she cried, forgetting proper manners. She made to stand and her knee buckled beneath her, forcing her to lean on the table for stability. Her failure to rise spoke for itself and she felt frustrated, embarrassed heat rush to her face. Nonetheless she spoke, and her words burst forth in an angry torrent, "I can walk. I can run. I can bend – and Spirits forgive me for having _pride_! I'm a master at Waterbending and you can't convince me otherwise!" She knew the direction in which her anger led her and she followed it willingly. "I don't need or want help. I can take care of myself and I'll continue to do so." Having calmed herself somewhat, Katara waited, meeting Rin's hostile gaze across the table. The others had fallen silent, regarding her with respectful silence and dubious stares. They couldn't force her to accept guards and they knew it.

"I think this matter speaks for itself," Steward Hei said quietly, effectively capturing the room's attention. "It isn't the matter of concern at all." Katara remained standing, loathe to sit lest her knee betray her a second time. Toph and Sokka refused to sit, both as a means of support and necessity; the latter couldn't very well sit with her chair battered in the corner. The Steward continued, "What we are genuinely concerned with is the Avatar's progression, and your refusal to accept security could put that in jeopardy. This question is a simple matter of priority, Lady Katara."

She didn't like how he eyed her, as if she was an inconvenient pawn in his plans. She briefly saw past his kind features into a dark, insidious mind and thought, _Snake._

"What do you mean?" she managed.

"Accept the guards and the safety we yearn to provide," he said kindly, "or leave Avatar Aang's life."

_To be continued…_

_AN: This chapter is yet another long-full-of-boring, but I had to make some important headway. Meetings are so boring… I heard somewhere that they're the death of literature? Guess I fell into that trap. _

_Has anyone noticed how I've started the first two chapters with reflection based in the girl's mind? And I started chapter three with Aang's thoughts. I couldn't resist. _

_Supposedly "Phang" means "fat" in Chinese, but feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. That's why Katara thought it was so funny. _

_Have a little faith in me. I'll try to make it entertaining!_


	4. Threats

Disclaimer: I do not own Avatar: The Last Airbender.

**Chapter Four: Threats**

Katara grew completely still as she regarded the steward, whose face remained smooth and gentle, as though his suggestion was perfectly understandable and of great benefit to her. She didn't have to observe the guests' faces to know they had wanted this from the start, longed for it with a greed that warped their common sense. She suppressed the mild urge to laugh; the idea of leaving Aang's life was preposterous, more so than offensive. Katara felt both sides of the notion and a morbid, enraged sense of humor took root within her. She wanted to take each adversary by the shoulders and shake them, to ridicule them as openly as she had been subtly mocked. The possibility that she was in shock occurred to her, but she dismissed it, recalling the calm, orderly events preceding the gathering. _Not shock,_ she asserted, dimly aware of the sneer transforming her features. _What is it?_

Toph regained her composure with comparable finesse. She slammed her feet against the floor, delighting in her ability to deface the Earth Kingdom Palace without concern for the penalties. The floor rocked beneath her in small waves, causing noblemen to fall from their chairs with explanations of bewilderment. Zuko and Mai sat still, well-aware that the Earthbender would split the waves to avoid their discomfort without a second thought. Regardless, Zuko's face was a picture of ill-contained rage; Mai gripped his shoulder to calm him. Sokka was uncharacteristically serious, albeit less graceful when it came to the shifting floor. He alternated between glaring at the steward and glancing nervously at his feet.

Toph, apparently satisfied with the havoc she'd created, smoothed her feet against the floor and the quaking stilled. Noblemen struggled to climb back into their chairs and she noted, dimly, that many of them weren't as spry as they had once been. She shrugged off the sting of guilt, rationalizing that they shared the common goal of caging Katara or removing her from the picture altogether. Feet moved swiftly behind her and she whirled around, eager to face true opposition. The security squad members, well-aware of her skill, paused and looked nervously at Chief Miang. She lifted an arm and strode forward firmly, alone but not without threat. Toph felt her footsteps, tracing every minute tremor they made, but Miang was not Earthbending. She merely took her place directly behind the steward in an obvious statement of protection. The room was still and tense; finally, Zuko stood.

"Your demands are unnecessary and impractical," he said calmly, although he could feel hot rage slowly consuming his common sense. "Guards would only be a hindrance to Lady Katara's safety, given as she'd feel obligated to protect them in dire circumstances. The only guards that would be at her skill level would resemble the Dai Li, and they," he glanced at Miang pointedly, "are disbanded. Also, what power do you have to separate her from Avatar Aang? Surely you aren't going to convince him that it's a good idea." Although he was looking directly at the steward, Zuko saw Katara ease herself into her chair in his peripheral vision. His mind whirled with possibilities, but as each moment drew on, nothing worthwhile occurred to him. Mai startled him by standing.

"I have an idea," she said confidently. Everybody regarded her with mild surprise. It was well-known that Zuko's wife accompanied him to numerous political gatherings, but she didn't speak very often. Her cool, sharp gaze swept the room and many of the noblemen shifted uneasily in their seats. Rin Wai's dark eyes remained narrow and angry. "Lady Katara can live with us for an indefinite period of time. There are plenty of guards in the Fire Nation palace to spare, besides my husband and myself. We can use a guest house or she can live in the palace."

"How would this situation be any different than her living in Ba Sing Se?" the steward asked calmly. There was a brief moment when their eyes met and Mai saw a spark of anger, but he disguised it with concern immediately. "Lady Katara lives in one of the grandest mansions in the city and her acts as a war hero ensure her comfortable lifestyle. She lives in the upper ring – in the Avatar's house, no less. I can't guarantee that her relatives or friends visit often," he looked pointedly at Sokka and Toph, who both felt a tremor of guilt, "but we strive to provide a good life here."

"I'm Lady Katara's close friend," Zuko replied evenly. "I may not be at home whenever I please, but that doesn't mean we would never visit her." Katara was both parts overjoyed and aggravated; the prospect of moving to the Fire Nation capital was tempting, but she disliked being spoken of as if she wasn't present. She made an effort to disguise her excitement, which was quickly overpowering her annoyance. Steward Hei was silent, but the remaining noblemen were abuzz with opinions. Chou Phang was the first to complain; his large face scrunched together, much like the pout of an unhappy infant.

"You can't possibly be saying that the Fire Nation is safer than the Earth Kingdom!" he boomed. "We of the Earth Kingdom have gone through great lengths to make Lady Katara comfortable, and Ba Sing Se is a shining example of a multicultural life! What can she find in the Fire Nation that wouldn't already be here?"

"Companionship, for one," Mai replied simply, and her blasé tone made the large man shake with indignant anger. "And peace for another. Furthermore, Master Phang, you are incorrect on two accounts. Can you give me an example of one time when you, Chou Phang, considered Katara's well-being? Apparently you haven't the time to consider your workers' welfare, so I doubt you have room for her in your mind." Chou Phang sputtered angrily but managed little articulation beyond that. Zuko looked torn between interrupting his snide wife and watching with amusement. He settled for the latter as she continued, "And Ba Sing Se can claim to house people of different ethnicities, but the majority of them are caged in the lower ring. The only ones who live in the upper ring are disgustingly rich, and even then no bending beside Earthbending is tolerated." She glanced at the steward with obvious meaning. "Oh, you may have laws against prejudice, but that doesn't stop the citizens from being hostile to benders. This hasn't become a problem in the Fire Nation, and as a close friend of my husband, Katara would be treated with the respect she deserves. Frankly, I don't know why it didn't occur to me to do this earlier."

"Your wife speaks out of turn!" Chou Phang finally managed to bellow, glaring at Zuko. "Can't you keep her under control?" Mai's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Zuko merely smiled.

"She only speaks the truth," he replied. "And, Master Phang, I value my personal health. Ordering her around would endanger both that and my integrity. There's a fine line between a wife and a servant," he caught Mai's meaningful glance and added, quickly, "though both of them deserve respect."

"Nonetheless, she could use a bit of prudence," Steward Hei interjected smoothly. Before the room could dissolve into chaos, he continued, "But now that you mention it, I think it's a fine idea. Lady Katara is entitled to live wherever she chooses, and if the Fire Nation is that place, let her stay there." Katara watched him warily, but his face offered only gracious consent. "However, I would like you to consider moving between Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation capital from time to time. Why don't you take some time to think about it while we sort out the boring details?"

"You mean these aren't the boring details?" Toph yawned. She slouched with her hip resting against the table for support. "I can't handle much more political mumbo-jumbo than this." Sokka remained silent, but there was no mistaking the agreement in his rueful grin. All at once the tension of the meeting evaporated. Katara couldn't be more relieved.

"You may write up a plan detailing the times of moving between Ba Sing Se and the Fire Nation if she agrees to it," Mai said firmly, "but she will review it and fully understand the details of it. She mustn't be misled." Katara felt a spark of irritation, but she grudgingly conceded that much of a verbose contract would confuse her at a first glance. Steward Hei smiled and agreed that yes, of course Lady Katara would not be taken advantage of.

"Of course, Avatar Aang must know of this arrangement," he added, once vague frames of the plan had been suggested. "He can't very well come home to find Lady Katara missing, can he? That reminds me, he should be returning soon. A matter of days, I thought."

"Yes," Katara said, feeling that the thought had been directed at her. Her heart swelled at the thought of Aang's return. "Yes, he should be back within the week."

"Excellent. Should you choose to move between the two nations, we'll write up a detailed plan of how it will work. Are you certain you want to relocate to the Fire Nation for the time being?"

"Yes," she said again. "Not to, um, offend you, but I think a change of scenery would do me some good. Not that Ba Sing Se doesn't have its good sides." She felt she should continue, but she couldn't bring any positive aspects of the city to mind. So she merely smiled, content with the thought of leaving. Soon, she would be living in the Fire Nation. Aang would return. It was all fitting together perfectly; the somber, suspicious mood that had plagued her for as long as she could recall was lifting. Sokka glanced worriedly from his sister to Toph, who couldn't return the gesture but shifted with the same unrest.

"This is moving along very smoothly," Steward Hei smiled. "I expected days of negotiations, to be honest. That we needn't deal with much more is certainly a blessing." He gestured briskly to Chief Miang, who nodded to the members of her squad. They came to life like awakened statues, working in pairs to smooth the broken floor tiles and open the grand door. As they worked, he continued to speak. "I think we can conclude today's meeting. It was really only a beginning session to get everybody situated and acquainted with each other. I am hosting a dinner this evening, if you would like to get to know each other more. Thank you all for your time; I know it's hard to come by," his good-natured tone invited a few chuckles. Mai, however, frowned.

"That's all for the day?" she queried. When the noblemen met her with vacant stares, she continued. "I'm sorry. I was just under the impression that there was a reason for inviting our family and close friends. When did you plan on mentioning that?"

"That was to be addressed at our next meeting, actually," Steward Hei replied without missing a beat. His smooth smile had a similar effect on her, Katara noticed; she stiffened in her chair, as if unconsciously bracing herself for a threat. A snake. But Katara was too overcome by joy to consider it further. One of Chief Miang's squad members stood at her side and bowed politely, withdrawing her chair once she stood. Katara took measured steps lest her knee betray her again, but after maintaining a steady stride, she relaxed. Toph and Sokka joined her immediately and they left the room, loitering in the hall for a few minutes as they waited for Zuko and Mai. After a few minutes of making small-talk with noblemen, the Fire Lord and Lady peeled themselves from the bustling room. Zuko looked immensely tired and Mai was scowling. Katara tried to recall a time when the Fire Lady _didn't _scowl and wasn't surprised when nothing came to mind.

The group left the palace in silence. Once they descended the great stairs, the squad members left them, following Chief Miang in neat twin lines. Sokka, who had been suspiciously silent at the end of the meeting, released a gusty sigh.

"That was tense," he muttered, mopping his brow.

"Really?" Toph's voice was thick with sarcasm. "I myself thought it was a jolly little picnic. I can't _wait_ to see Steward Hei again!"

Katara laughed along with the others, but kept her thoughts to herself. The beginning of the meeting had been tense, surely, and the demand that she accept aid or leave Aang had stunned her. But the promise of living in the Fire Nation and seeing Aang soon overcame her fright easily. They moved through the streets, caught up in complaints and friendly banter. The golden roof of Aang's mansion loomed above the other houses and before they knew it, it was directly before them.

"Something was off," Zuko muttered. "Steward Hei has changed. When Aang and the White Lotus were interviewing him for the job, he was so… well, charismatic. Like he was actually thinking about the peoples' interests. But he's different now and I can't quite place it."

"I hate him," Mai grumped, though Katara suspected the loathing was mostly due to her poor mood. "And that fat one, too. I'll say whatever I like at a meeting."

"You aren't feeling well," Zuko replied. "That's probably part of it." Mai shot him a look then sagged miserably, defeated. Zuko smiled kindly and squeezed her hand.

"Are you sick, Mai?" Katara asked. In the past, her healing only applied to injuries, but as of late she had been considering testing her skills on illness and fatigue. She wasn't absolutely certain if she could cure a sick patient, but she was itching to try. As she pushed the door open, she offered, "I could take a look at you."

"I'm just tired," she conceded. "And a little sore. We were riding on eel hounds for days before we got here, and of course there's the heat." She glanced at Zuko again, accusing but too weary to make it venomous. "Zuko, of course, loves this heat wave because he's a Firebender."

"Sorry." He smirked. "I knew I shouldn't have picked that Firebending gene in the womb."

"Not a gene," Duke's voice came from across the room. The group looked up to behold him, leaning casually against the doorway to the kitchen with an apple in hand. Clearly he had found the pantry. Katara wondered, dismally, if Pipsqueak had emptied their cabinets.

"You're such a pig," Toph groaned. "Since when is it okay to eat other peoples' food? Don't you have any manners?"

"That's rich, coming from the girl who messed up the floor just this morning," Sokka quipped. "Talk about good guests. We're all freeloading at Aang's house anyway." Toph glared in his general direction while the others laughed. Zuko looked pointedly at Duke, clearly confused.

"You said 'not a gene,'" he said. "What did you mean, exactly?"

"Nothing much," Duke replied idly, although his smirk suggested otherwise. "Nothing I can prove yet, anyway. It's only a hunch."

"A hunch he hounded me across the country for," Toph grumbled. "Just because you're a brain doesn't mean you're above the rest of us."

"I went to school," Duke explained, more for the group's benefit than Toph's. "And I never said I was better than anybody. You came up with that standard all by yourself. I'm flattered." Toph fumed but he ignored her completely, instead focusing on the others. "So, how did the meeting go? You guys are back pretty early. From the note, I expected you would be gone much longer."

"Mai helped us come to a speedy conclusion," Zuko replied. His tentative smile suggested amusement at Duke and Toph's banter. "But there's a dinner tonight we're expected to attend."

"We have to?" Toph groaned. "I thought it was only a suggestion!"

"These things are never friendly suggestions," Mai corrected her. She winced, pressing the heel of her hand to her back. "Ugh. I'm going to lie down for a while." Her voice and expression were bitter, as if admitting to weakness shamed her. She moved into the main room and looked around uncertainly.

"I'll show you two where you're staying," Katara volunteered. She led Mai and Zuko into one of the many halls leaving the main room and up a flight of stairs. The sound of their friends talking faded as they reached the second floor. Katara showed them to one of the many guest rooms which, while ornate and spotless, had clearly never been used. Aang had entertained guests shortly after the war's end, but after it became clear that most visitors could not be trusted, he closed the mansion to all but his best friends. Katara had looked through all the rooms before choosing hers, although it soon became clear that they were all prepared to accommodate royalty. After the first look, she felt as if spending time in the other rooms was none of her concern.

She moved to a room with sliding doors and pushed them open to reveal a spacious room with comfortable mats and low-laying tables. The walls were covered with some kind of paper they made in the Fire Nation, but they had the same thickness as the rest of the building in order to maintain stability. The large bed in the corner seemed out-of-place, but Katara expected they wouldn't mind. Overall, the room was very Fire Nation.

"There are futons in this closet," she said, moving to the corner and patting the door. "There are also towels and robes. Is your luggage at the Earth Kingdom palace?"

"Yes, but we can get that at dinner tonight," Zuko replied. Katara noticed how weary and drawn Mai looked. None of this exhaustion had been noticeable at the meeting, but she suspected it had been well-concealed, not absent.

"Are you sure you don't want me to see if anything is wrong?" she queried. "If nothing else, I could probably ease up some of the soreness." Years of healing had left her with a comprehensive understanding of muscles, tissue, and even a few chi-pathways; certainly she could do something. But Mai shook her head.

"Thank you, but I'll manage. My muscles are just a little stiff, really – it's nothing to get all worked up about." She looked meaningfully at Zuko, who shrugged in return. "A little rest will soothe them."

"That's a miracle in itself," Zuko confided indiscreetly. "She hates being too idle, so her voluntarily taking a nap is strange enough. I don't know what to do with her, sometimes."

"You'll manage," Mai parried. Katara, feeling that she was intruding upon otherwise sweet banter between husband and wife, politely excused herself and retreated to her more obnoxious company. Upon descending the stairs, she was met with a peculiar sight: Toph had recreated the Earth Kingdom in miniature in the living room floor. She was gesturing to places indicated by her feet and pointing at Duke and Pipsqueak. Said perpetrators lounged on the couch, shaking with ill-contained laughter.

"—tell you, I ran across the Earth Kingdom in a few days, and these louts were useless the whole time—"

"Oi," Duke called, his voice cracking with laughter, "I wasn't useless. I read the map. Sorry to be insensitive, but you're, uh, visually _impaired…_"

Katara allowed a small smile to grace her features. It was entirely genuine; everything was settling neatly, perfectly into place.

* * *

Upon some consideration, Katara decided that she may as well attend the dinner. She hardly relished the prospect of spending more time with the noblemen from the meeting – Steward Hei in particular – but, as Mai had said, the event was no mere suggestion. It was a test to measure her political fluency, and while she knew she hadn't much of that to offer, she also considered it a personal challenge to her determination. Although she was delighted by her imminent move to the Fire Nation, Steward Hei's early threat weighed heavily on her mind.

Accept guards or leave Aang's life. How could he have suggested such a thing? The other noblemen's response – or lack thereof – was also a point of concern. Their acceptance of the notion was as much a blow to her as it was a threat. They didn't think her worthy of Aang, which justified the horrid idea. That the majority of the council thought so – and united in this opinion – unnerved Katara.

Her mind drifted amongst many unsettling possibilities. Perhaps she was an unsuitable candidate for some biological reason she had yet to comprehend. Katara fancied herself knowledgeable when it came to the workings of the human body, but her grasp of hereditary details was frail at best. Did her being a Waterbender somehow affect the children she could have? Was it a gene that took precedence over another, such as Airbending? When she was fourteen, thoughts of her and Aang's children would have alarmed her. At nineteen, the idea wasn't discomforting in the least; it seemed _right._ Katara wanted time to enjoy with Aang, unhampered by children, but she could also see them as a must in her future.

Hadn't Duke said something about bending not being a gene? Then again, he had only said it was a hunch. Katara dismissed the idea as soon as it appeared.

As she dressed for the dinner, Katara considered other possibilities. Perhaps the noblemen didn't think her fitting for Aang based on her background; she was from a tiny village in the Southern Water Tribe with nothing besides herself to offer. There wasn't much wealth to be found in a village of perhaps thirty people. Katara had never thought this a problem and knew Aang felt the same, but in the world of politics, every resource one had was valuable.

Katara tied the sash on her dress and regarded herself levelly in the mirror. In secret celebration of moving to the Fire Nation, she'd selected a dress of dark red, with embroidered autumn leaves scattered across the bottom. She began to work on her hair with quick efficiency. Another thought struck her: how many noblemen were grooming their daughters for the position she had long taken for granted? How many lovely, rich, politically fluent young ladies were preparing themselves to impress the Avatar? Despite herself, Katara was both parts angry and nervous. Usually, she'd no problem being confident in herself. But the knowledge and wealth she lacked, coupled with Steward Hei's proposition, shook her to the core.

She dug through her small supply of jewelry before finding matching pins and pushed them into her hair with practiced ease. She powdered her face a bit and stared at her reflection in the mirror. The girl that stared back was, mercifully, calm and determined. How much pressure would be required for that façade to crumble?

* * *

Immediately upon entering the grand hall, Katara wished she hadn't come. This desire was followed by an urge to prove herself to the noblemen – although she didn't know how – and she clung to it, lest she allow her regret to show. Beside her, Mai and Zuko were the picture of composure, dressed in Fire Nation finery and prepared to meet any obstacle presented to them. Zuko was calm and observant, yet friendly; Mai was less approachable, though she was kind where manners were due. She had trained her usual scowl into an apathetic visage, but every so often she would disguise a grimace. Katara suspected her back was still bothering her.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she confided. Mai shook her head.

"It was a good idea. You're asserting yourself in front of these pompous noblemen. Just don't let them see how nervous you are." The reply, while frank, was a comfort. Katara smiled wanly.

"If you'd like, you could leave a bit early," Zuko suggested. "Stay for an hour or two, then make your apologies and leave. You just need a decent excuse." His eyes flicked unbidden to her left knee. Ashamed, Zuko turned his gaze to his feet. "Sorry," he said.

"It's nothing to apologize for," Katara assured him. "It's a good idea, in any case." Momentarily, she wished Toph had come to share a similar dislike for such events. She shrugged off the regret and checked her resolve. An hour or two was perfectly manageable. Mai noticed her progression from discomfort to determination.

"You can stay with us if you're uncomfortable," she said. "You might have to talk to Steward Hei by yourself a bit, but other than that, you aren't required to be polite to anybody." Her tone suggested that she applied this train of thought, which Katara didn't doubt in the least.

"Thanks, but I'll be fine," she replied. "Like you said, it's only a little while. I can manage." To prove it, she pivoted on her heel and headed toward the dinner table. As she picked delicacies from the assortment, she suppressed the urge to tug on the collar of her dress. The heat in Ba Sing Se was still oppressive; it made her regret the decision to wear a thick, long-sleeved dress. At least her makeup was sparsely applied…

"Lady Katara," a smooth, familiar voice called. Jarred from her musing, Katara turned toward the source of the voice to find Steward Hei approaching. His features were amiable, but she recalled the threat of his proposition at the meeting and regarded him warily. If he noticed her unease, he masked it flawlessly. He eyed the small plate she held and nodded appreciatively. "You prefer our selection of poultry? I must admit my favorite dish is spiced chicken-hawk."

"They're all delicious," she said vaguely, omitting the fact that all poultry tasted the same to her. She smiled tremulously in a vain attempt to match the steward's collected expression. "This is a lovely event. The decorations, the food, the company…" The last bit came out with some difficulty, but she managed to sound genuine. In truth, she longed to speak with the steward so she could feign weariness and leave.

"I want to thank you," she said, "for being so accommodating with Lady Mai's plan. I know it was a very sudden idea, but you were willing to agree to it."

"It's nothing," he said, smiling; something about the expression chilled Katara to the bone. "No doubt we'll have plenty of details to attend to, but they're well worth it. Your safety is our first priority; I'm certain the Fire Lord and Lady can ensure that you are well protected." The statement would have been harmless, if not for the emphasis he placed on 'Fire Lord.' Katara's eyes narrowed at the unspoken implication, but she managed to hold her tongue. The steward saw her ill-restrained anger and his smile widened into a smirk.

"Have you seen the view of the lower rings from the palace? It's exquisite," he offered her his arm, which she took after a moment of hesitation. Refusing the offer would be blatantly rude. As she was led from the main hall, Katara glanced around discreetly, hoping to catch Zuko or Mai's eyes; neither of them noticed her, embroiled in debate with noblemen as they were.

Steward Hei led her through a maze of halls, making casual conversation as they went. Katara did her best to reply in kind, though most of her answers consisted of, "Hmm," or, "Oh, really?" Just as she was growing panicked about her ignorance regarding politics, the steward pushed a door open to reveal a spacious balcony. Releasing his arm, Katara skirted across the balcony to the edge, where she beheld the city of Ba Sing Se by nightfall. Immediately surrounding the palace were thousands of bright lights, indicative of the wealthy citizens who could afford to light their lamps excessively; as she moved her gaze to the distant lights, they grew less in number and intensity. Katara stared down, regretful that a beautiful scene could only reaffirm her grim opinion of Ba Sing Se.

Suddenly, inexplicably, the desire to see Aang consumed her, devouring her happiness at the prospect of leaving Ba Sing Se like a blaze would a dry forest. She gripped the edge of the balcony to conceal her shaking hands and swallowed her tears, only to find her throat perilously tight. She wanted to see him. She wanted to be with him, not only for her selfish reasons, but to help him set the world right.

"You're troubled," Steward Hei observed, to which she inhaled deeply and turned to face him. Her eyes burned and, as a father would, he gripped her shoulder gently. "I understand that you're weary. But rest assured that your safety will always be our first priority."

"You say that," the words burst from her before she could stop them, "but you encourage me to leave Aang's life. And you invite the daughters of noblemen to attend the meeting as if—as if…" She drew in another deep breath to fortify herself. Holding her tongue seemed pointless. "As if you mean to replace me."

For a moment, the steward was utterly still. Then his expression changed, warping to suit his true emotions; he was enraged, whether it be by her comprehension of his true motives or her frazzled state.

"You think yourself so clever," he hissed dangerously. "_Lady _Katara, born as a peasant but lifted to power by her little romance with the Avatar. You may think yourself in love with him, but how simple would it be to convince people otherwise? You may be just as bad as all the other girls willing to marry him. Or worse, you could be painted as the girl who will do anything to up her status. You're quite close to Fire Lord Zuko – too close, I would say."

"Let me go," Katara spat in an attempt to conceal her fear.

"I think not. Consider this, Lady Katara. You may be the Avatar's sweetheart, but you can't rebuild a nation alone. You're just one woman, and a bender at that. What if every child you have is a Waterbender? You aren't suited for a life of politics either; you look foolish because you can't control your emotions or put two and two together.

"Avatar Aang won't want any other women to bear his children. Oh, don't look so embarrassed. You would think a girl of nineteen would have some concept of biology. The potential women we have in mind would be wealthy, influential – the sort who could support the Air Nomads as they are reestablished in the world. What do you have to offer?"

"I… I…"

"If you encouraged the Avatar to have a harem, you may be able to remain with him. But how willing would he be to father children with other women with a dark conscience hanging over his head? No, no…" His voice trailed away to a murmur, more to himself than to her. "Better you were removed from the picture altogether."

Katara tried to take a step back, but he held her still in a harsh, bruising grip. Suddenly, their closeness to the edge of the balcony became frightfully clear. Katara felt many things at once: his fingers digging into her shoulder, the weight of the skin of water at her hip, the ache of her knee as it threatened to betray her. Her hands slid into position to command the water, but her eye caught the gleam of steel too late, and it was so fast—

"Steward Hei," an authoritative voice called from the door to the balcony. The steward pulled his arm back and released Katara, who staggered away, heart slamming against her ribs. She capped the skin at her side and fought to control her breathing. They turned to regard the intruder; Zuko stood in the doorway, closely assessing the situation. After a moment of hesitation, he said, "My wife and I must go. It's unfortunate, but I suspect she's still sore from the trip. She won't tell me, of course," this part was rueful. In the silence that followed, Zuko's eyes continued to follow the steward, as if trying to deduce what had transpired. Finally, "We were thinking of getting our baggage and taking Lady Katara with us. That is, if you're done speaking with her."

"Ah, yes," the steward replied, his face once again smooth and innocent. "Certainly. Lady Katara and I were just discussing a few details regarding her move to the Fire Nation," he looked at her pointedly, as if daring her to protest. "These things will be settled at the next meeting, no doubt. Tomorrow night," he said, as if they would forget. "Your luggage is where you left it. Would you like me to escort you?"

"That isn't necessary," Zuko replied. To the untrained eye, he was polite and unsuspecting, but Katara caught his gaze and saw the question in it. Steward Hei's accusations about her relationship with him came to mind and she looked at her feet. Zuko, apparently unperturbed, continued, "It wouldn't do well to make the steward of Ba Sing Se run around like a servant. I'm certain we can find our way by ourselves." He nodded encouragingly to Katara, who joined him as quickly as her knee would allow.

Only when they were a fair distance down the hall did Katara exhale, trembling violently. Zuko, seeing her obvious distress, put a hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Katara, shaken by the gesture and freshly aware of peoples' opinion on their relationship, jerked away involuntarily. Zuko fell silent, watching her closely; feeling an utter fool and a poor friend, Katara allowed her repressed tears to flow.

"I'm s-sorry," she croaked. "I don't understand why I'm so—I'm afraid, and I hate it—I wish Aang was here!" She hated her weakness, hated her fervent desire for Aang's presence, but the steward's scathing words shook her, more so than what she suspected had been an attempt on her life. She lifted her hand tentatively to her side, exploring the danger zone of the steward's knife. Much to her relief, her skin was unmarked; even the dress had escaped undamaged. Numbly, Katara thought the steward was a terrible shot at such close proximity. _I'm in shock,_ she acknowledged.

"It's fine," Zuko replied. "What did the steward do to you, Katara? Did he say something?"

"Just…" she trailed off uneasily. What the steward had said carried less of a toll than his actions; the accusation thereof was too dangerous to be spoken. Zuko and Mai would believe her, no doubt, as would her friends. But the other noblemen would surely deny any claim against the steward's integrity. Katara's mind was a whirl of fear and anger as she answered. "He told me what everybody else is thinking. That I should encourage Aang to accept a harem, one made of the wealthy daughters from around the world… Zuko, how can I possibly agree to something like that? How could they be so underhanded, so…" She was furious. "I can't agree. I won't."

"You don't have to," Zuko replied. His calm tone suggested that he'd considered the possibility, perhaps even cemented it in his mind as the truth. "People make the mistake of thinking the Air Nomads can be reestablished in a generation or two. It'll take time, but they will thrive. Eventually."

"Thanks," she said, wiping away her tears, which rolled down her cheeks heavily. That Zuko's words were optimistic – even naïve – went unspoken between them. Katara sighed heavily, considering telling him about the knife, about the attack that had been cut short by his arrival. Instinct and fear advised her otherwise; she would wait for Aang to return and tell him. It grieved her to give him more work in selecting a new steward, but she knew extra work paled in comparison to maintaining her wellbeing.

"Is that all that happened?" Zuko inquired. Katara hesitated before nodding slowly.

"He was so rude," she muttered. "He called me a fool and said I had nothing to offer Aang. And he…" She swallowed, suddenly uncomfortable. A thought came to her unbidden, one of the Ember Island Players reenacting a romance they suspected was between Zuko and herself. "Zuko, you're one of my best friends. But I'm not in love with you." She hoped the statement wasn't as awkward as it felt. She hoped he could hear what she left unspoken: _I'm tired of the rest of the world thinking I am._

"Uh," Zuko said, slightly thrown by her frankness, "I feel the same. I didn't even think it needed to be said, honestly. Did Steward Hei imply this? Because I think we both know how stupid the Ember Island Players are."

"He did more than imply," she said. She dropped the conversation and, mercifully, Zuko made no attempt to pursue it. They navigated the maze of halls to find themselves in an untouched guest room. Suitcases waited against one wall; Mai was perched atop one. As Zuko and Katara entered the room, she disguised a grimace and clasped her hands together on her lap.

"Ready?" She stood, taking two suitcases in hand. Sighing, Zuko crossed the room and picked up the other two. Katara offered to take one of Mai's suitcases and was mildly surprised when it was relinquished to her without hesitation. The Fire Lady was exhausted to the point of compliance.

The three refused the assistance of guards on the way to Aang's house, feeling that they were adequately prepared to defend themselves against any threats that may arise. Zuko and Mai were reasonably at ease, but Katara was tense throughout the trip back, flinching at shadows and keeping a tight grip on the water skin at her side. In the silence and dark, she tried to compose herself, but she had good cause to be on edge. Her mind wandered, considering the possibilities of other enemies amongst the noblemen. Surely the steward had not acted alone. There must be others who shared the opinion that Katara was of best use to the world when removed from Aang's life. She summoned to mind a few faces from the meeting, but none stood out in particular, save for Chou Phang, Rin Wai, and Chief Miang. Chou Phang hardly seemed a threat, and while Rin Wai was petty and rude, she seemed to present no true danger. It was Chief Miang who would present a threat, apt as she was in Earthbending.

Katara turned over the thought of telling her friends about the ill-executed attempt on her life. It seemed foolish not to tell somebody, especially since Aang was expected to be back in a few days and the next meeting was tomorrow. The advantages of such a choice were obvious; she had powerful friends who would add to the protection she provided for herself. And yet, the steward had all the other noblemen on his side.

As she considered the pros and cons of the situation, one of the steward's questions came to mind unbidden: How easy would it be to convince people that she was merely after power? Given her track record, the answer should have been 'not easily at all.' However, so many people suspected her of having relations with Zuko. That fact, coupled with a reminder that she was the sweetheart of the most powerful being on the planet, could only serve to hurt her chances of bringing the other noblemen to her side.

So immersed in thought was she that, upon arriving at Aang's mansion, she failed to notice the exclamations from within. She didn't take heed of Zuko's comment or Mai's reply; her thoughts were entirely focused on the problem at hand. Had Katara been her usual, observant self, she may have heard the whirling air above the mansion. As it was, she was oblivious.

They opened the door to a ruckus. Before Katara could comprehend the situation, she was grabbed by Toph and Sokka and forcibly pulled inside. Despite her protests, her friends pulled her up one, two, three flights of stairs. The final stairway led to a spacious, flat segment of roof. Gasping from exertion and the strain on her knee, Katara waved them off feebly. She was mildly surprised when they released her and waited, uncharacteristically patient and silent. Once composed, she regarded them with questions on her lips, but a glance at their knowing, smiling faces told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly she could not run fast enough.

They left her with a promise that they would count to one-hundred before following. Katara climbed up the stairs as fast as her knee would allow; when that wasn't fast enough, she pressed herself despite the pain. There was a moment of frustration as her trembling hands struggled with the latch on the door. She threw it open to a gust of heavy, hot air and bolted out onto the roof.

In the darkness she could hardly make out any details, but he stood clear against Appa's snowy fur, apparently lifting down baggage. The gusts created by their landing had not quite abated, so he didn't hear the door thrown open. Before she could be struck by any changes in him, Katara lunged forward, giving a small cry that may have been his name. She bowled into him with all the force she could muster, pinning him against Appa's side. The sky bison grunted in surprise but remained immobile. As For Aang, he was caught off guard but not displeased. Somehow he managed to twist in her embrace and return it, pressing her to him so tightly it squeezed the air from her lungs.

"You're back early," she wheezed; it seemed the worst thing to say, given everything that needed be said. Her hands shifted from his waist, linking at the back of his neck. Had he grown even taller?

"We flew as fast as we could," he replied. Appa rumbled in agreement. Without a thought for the sky bison's opinion, he dipped his head for a languid, tender kiss. Katara returned his affection twofold. When they parted, Aang's eyes were a deep shade of slate, brimming with an emotion she could not identify. "Spirits, Katara. I've missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," she murmured, pulling him down for another kiss. She would have been content to remain like that until the sun rose, but the count to one-hundred had ended.

"Ugh! Okay, okay, break it up. You might be the Avatar, but that's my little sister. If I have to watch any more, I'm going to throw up!"

"So don't watch," Katara grumbled, provoking a good-natured laugh from Aang. Suddenly the roof was very crowded, or perhaps it was that everybody was trying to hug Aang before Katara had completely let go of him. Voices filled the air, those of excitement, curiosity, amusement, and so much more. Katara found a spot beside Aang who, despite meeting the comments and welcomes of everybody else, never released her hand. Momentarily though it may be, everything was perfect. _I will cherish this,_ Katara resolved. For the time being, she was content.

_To be continued…_

_A/N: I'm sorry it took so long to update, but college is very busy. Updates will most likely be sparse until summer vacation, but rest assured that I'm not abandoning this story. _

_Once again, I'm sorry for a dull chapter. There is action to come, though I fear my writing style is dull in itself. I had to get the essentials out of the way before anything exciting can happen._

_Some of you may think Katara's decision to wait before telling her friends about Steward Hei's assassination attempt was stupid of her. My answer: People make stupid decisions. Perhaps she'll regret it; perhaps it will work out in her favor. If the main characters didn't mess up every so often, there wouldn't be much of a story, I think._

_Also, I know the 'harem' idea is not very original. Other fanfiction writers have used it, but that's because… well, it works. When you think about one man fathering an entire nation, a harem seems pretty logical. Please don't come after me with pitchforks for having ideas that aren't very original. This story will try to tie up some of the loose ends left by the third season of AtLA, as have many others before it, so running into the same occurrence in different fanfiction shouldn't be a huge surprise._

_Thanks for reading!_


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